Forgetting the old ways
by Laura J B
Summary: Harry realises Draco has strong feelings for him - now he must decide whether or not he accepts the truth or to dismiss Draco. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron and Hermione are constantly bickering.. Slightly OOC, Rated R for later chapters.
1. Midnight Packages

****

Author's Note: My first attempt at Harry/Draco slash. Obviously the characters are slightly OOC because neither one of them are homosexual in JK Rowling's books. This story was just something I started to type up because I'm in the mood for Harry Potter (What with POA arriving soon) and is merely harmless fun. No offense to anyone is intended.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter One - Midnight Packages

Harry rolled over and opened a bleary eye. According to his alarm clock, he was fifteen minutes away from being seventeen. Groaning softly, he slowly rose from his bed and stumbled over to Hedwig's absent cage. He panicked for a minute, but then remembered Hedwig had flown off to The Burrow a couple of days ago to send Ron a letter from Harry. Harry grinned despite being so tired and laughed silently at the fact that he had disobeyed Uncle Vernon for not keeping 'that ruddy pigeon' in her cage.

"I wonder if Hedwig will come back with some presents," Harry mused thoughtfully.

This was a pretty silly thought - she always did. Harry tiptoed to the window and gazed outside. Dudley snorted loudly from across the hall, and Harry could hear the bed creak from under Dudley's massive bulk as he shifted in his sleep. Harry took delight in informing Dudley at regular intervals that he now had to have special support weights under his bed so it didn't snap in two. Uncle Vernon overheard a few times and bellowed at Harry angrily, charging at him like a crazed rhinoceros. All Harry had to do was innocently start a conversation about the Order being by his side - and Uncle Vernon would stop in his tracks, wipe his brow, and glance nervously at Harry before stomping off, snapping at Dudley for minor things so as to vent his anger. The Order of the Phoenix was a secret society that Professor Dumbledore, Head of Hogwarts, set up. It consisted of the witches and wizards that fought against Lord Voldemort, a powerful and evil wizard that had killed Harry's parents and many before them, striking a fear so deep into the wizarding society that they dare not speak his name. Especially not now, after he had risen again and Harry had learnt that either him or Voldemort must die - it was in a prophecy.

It took Harry several minutes to realise he was no longer at his window and that he was sitting on his bed, his trunk pulled out from under the floorboards and his photograph album in his lap. Turning to a random page, Harry felt a stab in his heart. Sirius beamed up at him as he struggled with an object out of the photo. It became obvious that the object was in fact Kreacher, the house elf for Twelve Grimmauld Place, where Sirius resides and where the Order would hold meetings. Harry felt another painful stab as he realised that Sirius didn't live there anymore - he didn't live at all. Harry knew it was selfish, but he really wanted Sirius back. He needed him. Harry turned to another page and saw a picture of his two best friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They had stood by him through everything and he was grateful to have two amazing friends. Harry swallowed and fought back a tear.

A sharp tap at the window interrupted Harry's gloomy thoughts, forcing him to put on a bright face as he welcomed Hedwig back. Errol and Pig also swooped in, owls belonging to the Weasleys, as did a fluffy barn owl from Hogwarts, the wizarding school that Harry was in. Harry dealt with the barn owl, taking off two letters from its leg before the owl hooted indignantly and set off again. He set aside the letters as he rescued Errol from his heavy burden, and also took off the packages from Pig and Hedwig before all three owls hopped over to Hedwig's cage and nibbled on owl treats. Feeling slightly more excited now he had presents, Harry glanced at the clock. Half past twelve. He was used to missing the exact moment he turned a year older - birthdays used to be of no importance to him. After all, he had been neglected by the Dursley's for eleven years straight - only slightly mistreated now he was a wizard, something they feared. But after he had been to Hogwarts for a few years, he had started to appreciate the day that came around every year. His special day. The presents usually consisted of nifty gadgets from Ron and Hermione, home baking from Hagrid that Harry never touched, and other presents from different people that still left Harry feeling elated and happy.

Harry decided to savour the moment for a minute and turned to his two letters. Opening the first one stamped with the Hogwarts crest, he realised it was a standard letter sent out to everyone that stated what they had to get for the new school year. Tossing it aside, he grabbed the second one. It was stamped with another crest along with Hogwarts, a crest that Harry had seen before. It was from the Ministry of Magic, and he had seen the crest many times last term. Harry shuddered to think about it. But what was in this letter? Was he in trouble again? He opened it warily, handling it like it was _The Monster book of monsters_, a book that would most likely snap your fingers off if you weren't careful. Harry sighed with relief as he realised he wasn't in trouble - these were his OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) results. Then he panicked again. He hadn't done so well in Potions or Divination - this was bad if he wanted to be an Auror, a student hoping to do so had to have grade E's in all subjects, E being 'Exceeds Expectations', and a minimum of five NEWTs. Harry presumed you had to pass five OWLs with decent results in order to take five NEWTs. He glanced at his results and his heart skipped a beat. He had an 'Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, Astronomy, Transfiguration and History of Magic, and an 'Acceptable' in Potions. Divination was an exception - he hated the subject. He glared at the 'Poor' grade and tried to vanish it away with his eyes. Harry sighed and grabbed the nearest present, ready to divulge in the pleasure of getting presents - just before a dirty black raven swooped into the room and dropped another letter into his lap. One look at how he was addressed ('Scarhead Potter'), he realised this letter could only be from one person.

Draco Malfoy.


	2. Invitation

****

Chapter Two - Invitation

Harry stared at the envelope. It couldn't be from Malfoy. Or could it? Questions buzzed inside Harry's head until he had to close his eyes and sit back. First of all, Draco never once asked for his address. Second - well why on Earth would one of Harry's enemies start sending him letters?

****

Hello Potter,

I can't say how fucking mad I am at you for landing my father in so much shit, so be careful around me and the rest of Slytherin from now on or you'll find yourself hexed all next term.

I also wrote to ask you a favour. This pains me deeply because I would never want help from you, Weasley and that filthy little mudblood. However, I wish for you to come to the Malfoy Manor in a few days time.

You'll find out why I need you if you come along.

Draco Malfoy.

Fuming with rage at Malfoy for being so horrible to Hermione, and at his own confusion, Harry took a piece of parchment from his trunk and began to write back.

****

Malfoy,

First - don't insult my friends. You want my help; you treat my friends with respect, ok?

Second - How in hell did you get my address? Is the amazing bouncing ferret a stalker of mine now?

Third - Why should I help you. We've hated each other for how long? Almost six years.

Until you tell me some answers, there is no way I'm dropping off at Malfoy Manor for some tea and crumpets to discuss your problems.

Harry Potter.

Feeling satisfied with the reply, Harry called over Hedwig and tied the letter to her leg. She gazed at him and waited for some orders, but Harry was lost in a train of thought. Hedwig nipped his fingers affectionately to bring him back down to earth. Harry jumped, but then he grabbed the torn envelope and looked for a return address. There was nothing other than the family crest.

"Hedwig," Harry began. "See this family crest? Belongs to the Malfoys. I need you to find the Malfoy Manor and deliver this to the puny little ... to the boy of the house. Okay?"

Hedwig hooted quietly and set off once again, leaving Harry to watch her glide away into the moonlight. Finally, he could open his presents. Just to be sure he wasn't interrupted anymore, Harry went to close the window. Errol and Pig hooted noisily, flapping their wings about powerfully and nipping at Harry's fingers until he could get the chance to let them out. As he close the window, Harry prayed they hadn't disturbed Uncle Vernon. They had.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled, getting out of bed.

Swinging around, Harry glanced at his presents and his open school trunk. So much mess, so little time. He shoved it all messily under the broken floorboard and jumped back onto the bed just as Uncle Vernon stomped into the room.

"What the ruddy hell was that noise? How many bloody pigeons do you have now?" Uncle Vernon spat.

"It was my friend's owls! Hedwig's not here. Look, they're gone now. No more noise, I promise," Harry said nervously.

But Uncle Vernon had stopped looking so mad. In fact, even though his face was a deep shade of purple, Harry could see that he was slightly nervous.

"You ... you're keeping in touch with this Order thing?" he swallowed, taking a step back.

Harry grinned to himself and sat up, his bedcovers falling off him slightly, revealing his naked chest. Surrey was hot at night, and even then Harry could feel steady drips of sweat trickle down his body.

"That's right. They want to see how I'm doing, to keep an eye on me," Harry said.

Laughing nervously, Uncle Vernon made an excuse about working early in the morning and left Harry alone. Leaning back in his bed, Harry felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Nobody had sent him letters, until now, and even then the letters would only consist of 'Happy Birthday' and 'Congratulations'.

Fumbling for the floorboard again, Harry brought out his presents and placed them on his bed. He opened up the first letter, from Ron.

****

Harry,

How are you, mate? Happy Birthday. Thanks for the letter. Mum wants you to know she's always thinking about you.

I can't tell you much right now ("Surprise, surprise," Harry thought bitterly), **but if you wanted to come to The Burrow in a few days time, we can arrange something.**

I know you're probably annoyed that no one can tell you anything, you're probably pissed off at all of us really. But it's not our fault. Hermione is in hysterics about you. She really does care. Don't take it out on her, whatever you do.

Anyway, enjoy your present. I picked it up at Quality Quidditch Supplies when we went with dad for a check up from the incident last term. Bill paid for it.

Ron.

Harry reeled back in surprise. Was he already that obvious? Was everyone expecting him to yell at them for nothing? He chucked the letter aside angrily and snatched up the present. On opening it, he found a Firebolt alarm clock. He set it on his bedside table and smiled, forgetting his recent anger at Ron. Watching it thoughtfully, Harry saw the Firebolt spin and zoom on top of the clock, its plastic rider hanging on for dear life. He picked up the letter from Hermione and opened it up, wondering if she was going to tell him anything.

Harry!

I've been so worried!

How are you? Happy Birthday! Ron showed me the letter you sent him. I can't tell you anything now, although I would like to. We have to take precautions; these letters can be read by anyone.

Come to The Burrow for the rest of the summer! It will be like old times. We need to talk to you, anyway. We can answer your questions then.

Lots of love,

Hermione xxx

Cheering up slightly at the prospect of going to The Burrow and hanging out with his two best friends, Harry forgot all about Malfoy until he spotted the letter once again, his heart sinking like a stone. Malfoy still wanted Harry to come around, and Harry was curious as to what his problem was. He couldn't make a date for The Burrow if he didn't know when Malfoy wanted to see him. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and quickly scribbled to Ron and Hermione. Hedwig could send the letter later.

****

Ron and Hermione,

I can't wait to come to The Burrow. But there's something I'm going to do first, and I don't have the date for that yet. When it's over, I'll let you know. I can't tell you about it, sorry.

Harry felt guilty for not telling them, they deserved to know. He didn't want them to stir things up, however. For some unknown reason, Harry wanted to see Malfoy. Alone. He opened up Hermione's present and saw she had got him a book called _101 hexes and curses_, which bore the subtitle: 'show your enemy what you're REALLY made of!'

Flicking through it excitedly, Harry made a sudden mental note to read through a few before setting off to Malfoy Manor. If he _did _go. He picked up his quill and continued to write;

Thanks for the presents, they're brilliant. Hermione - thanks for the book. It'll come in handy for the next school term...

Ron, thanks for the clock. It's awesome. I'll have to hide it from Dudley, he might sit on it.

See you soon.

Harry.

He put the letter in his drawer and turned to his remaining presents. There were the usual rock cakes from Hagrid that Harry hid under the bed - maybe he could tease Dieting Dudley later. His last present was from someone he didn't know. He opened it up and found an old leather book with fine detail along the spine and the borders. When he opened it, he discovered it was a photograph album - one of Sirius. Sirius as a baby, a toddler, a kid, Sirius starting Hogwarts, Sirius returning back from school and bragging to his mother, Sirius as a teenager, with his friends... one of whom was Harry's father. Harry stared at his almost perfect reflection and remembered he saw him when he was in Professor Snape's pensieve, and that he hadn't really liked who his father had been in school. These were photos of Sirius' life. Harry hugged it to his chest and placed it along with his other presents. It must have been from the Order. He stared at the presents happily before placing them back under the floorboard, wishing with all his heart that he could display them proudly like everyone else. When he glanced at the clock, he saw it was three in the morning. Lying back in bed, Harry wished Hedwig would be back soon.

He wanted to hear from Malfoy.


	3. A great disturbance

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Chapter Three - A great disturbance

Harry thrashed about in his bed, trying to wake up. He was dreaming about meeting Malfoy, and how Malfoy had made a trap for him. Appearing from the shadows, Voldemort had leapt onto Harry, killing him with the same curse that killed his parents. Harry's scar seared with pain and there was a flash of green light before Harry woke up, his face stained with tears, his throat coarse from screaming. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley all ran into the room.

"What's the meaning of this?" Uncle Vernon yelled.

"I HAD A NIGHTMARE!" Harry shouted. Why the hell should he be sorry for having a nightmare?

"Please be quiet!" Aunt Petunia shrieked.

"Ha! Potty has nightmares!" Dudley giggled.

Harry roared and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Dudley's head. Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon shrank down in fright. Dudley stood still, silent with terror. Harry glared at Uncle Vernon, his blood boiling with rage.

"Don't yell at me for something that isn't my fault," Harry whispered menacingly.

"Yes... well. Try not to make so much noise next time. You keep on roaring and lashing about like that, _we'll _never get any sleep,' Uncle Vernon ordered.

Harry's heart thudded madly and his emotions bubbled up inside him angrily, making him very overwhelmed and resulted in Harry bursting into tears. Dudley shifted uncomfortably and Aunt Petunia looked slightly embarrassed as Uncle Vernon became fascinated with something outside, refusing to stare at Harry.

"Right. Well... see you in the morning," he said awkwardly.

The three Dursleys shuffled back outside and back into their bedrooms. Harry sunk back down onto his bed, sobbing silently. He wiped his teary eyes with the corner of his pillow and shoved his fist in his mouth to stop himself from hiccupping and crying. Harry gave up trying to get to sleep and sat up in bed, propping his pillows up against the wall so he could sit comfortably. Big splashy tears fell from his emerald green eyes and splashed onto his chest, trickling down slowly and becoming tangled with the faint muscular lines of his stomach. He reached out from under his floorboard and pulled out Sirius' photo album. Flicking through the photographs, Harry began to cry more steadily as he gazed down on people who were gone forever and who he missed so much - Sirius, Lily and James. He grabbed his other photograph album and stared at a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself. They were in their first year and were waving frantically at Harry, nibbling on chocolate frogs as they sat on the train. If only they knew what was going to happen later...

BANG.

Harry stopped what he was doing and peered out of his window. There was a large, expensive looking car hovering outside his window. It's black body glinted in the moonlight, it's rims made of entwining silver snakes. A mutter escaped from the open car window and in an instant, Harry's bedroom window dislodged itself and hovered for a minute. The car door swung open and two gloved hands reached out from the car and pulled Harry in before he could scream for help. Closing his eyes firmly, Harry refused to look at his captor until a silky soft hand shook his shoulder.

"Potter? POTTER! It's me, you fool," Malfoy spat.

"What the fuck? Malfoy! Get the hell off me!" Harry yelled. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Swearing never got you anywhere," Malfoy said bitterly. "I read your letter. I didn't think you would come along willingly, so I had to kidnap you."

Harry shoved Malfoy away from him and glared at him. Malfoy's hair was still the same, still sleeked back and platinum blonde, only slightly longer. But... his build was different. He was slightly tanned and was a lot more muscular. Harry also saw the way Malfoy was staring at Harry's naked chest, like he longed to do something to it. Harry curled up in a defensive ball and felt very frightened. Was his dream a premonition?

"Malfoy, whatever you want to do, please don't kill me. Not now. I have too much to do, to say, to-"

"Potter, have you been crying?" Malfoy sneered. He saw Harry's expression and surprisingly, softened. "No. I don't want to kill you, funnily enough. After you landed my father in trouble with the Ministry and have done so much to me, I don't want to kill you. Yet."

Harry let his knees drop to the floor and gazed out of the window. He had been in a flying car before, so this wasn't a big surprise to him. It was invisible to the Muggle eye (Muggle being the wizard slang for people with no wizarding ability) and seemed to have a silencing spell upon it.

"Look, Potter. I'll tell you everything in the morning. When we get back to my Malfoy Manor, I'll show you to my room and then you can have a shower-"

"Malfoy. You kidnapped me. I'm terrified. I also have no clothes. You forgot to kidnap my stuff too. I'm also very suspicious of you. How did you get my owl so fast?," Harry said, eyeing up Malfoy to see how much of a fight he could be. Malfoy also eyed up Harry, though his expression was entirely different.

"I live quite close by. How convenient. Look, just shut up. Get some fucking sleep - an hour or two. I know you'll fall asleep. My bed is a lot more comfortable than that piece of shit you were lying on a minute ago," Malfoy scoffed.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. _His _bed? He would be sleeping with _Malfoy_? His heart raced. No way.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Malfoy. You're a rich kid, doesn't your house have sixteen bedrooms?" Harry asked.

"Yes it does. But mother has the whole family over. It's to discuss certain things, mainly my father," Malfoy said quietly.

"So why are you kidnapping me when everyone is over? Wait... are you going to get them to kill m-"

"NO! FOR FUCK'S SAKE! They don't know you're coming. You're going to hide out in my room until we have our discussion. We're almost there. Just be quiet until we get into my room, okay?" Malfoy hissed.

Harry sat back in the seat, viewing the Malfoy Manor that was growing bigger as the car descended slowly. He was shocked to see just how close Malfoy lived to him, and felt a scowl spread across his face. The Manor was built with beautiful red brick and creamy white columns supporting the upper levels at the front entrance. Two equally ugly stone gargoyles grinned evilly at Harry, and he swore one of them winked at him. Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes on him, and he felt uneasy. He didn't want to sleep with Malfoy and he didn't want to be here. A sudden jolt in the car made it jump and come to a halt, shaking as it did so. Harry cursed himself for sitting right up next to the wheel. Clad in only boxers, he hoped Malfoy wouldn't see his accidental 'problem'. He did. Malfoy smirked slightly and opened the car door as they landed, then proceeding to open Harry's car door for him like a chaperone. He signalled Harry to follow him quietly as he ascended up a marble staircase similar to the one at Hogwarts, and opened up his bedroom door, shoving Harry inside. It was a mess, but it was an elegantly decorated mess. Harry gawped at all the expensive oak furnishings and wondered just how many millions of galleons Malfoy must have.

"Through there is the en suite. Have a shower. Use one of my towels. I'll see you in a minute," Malfoy drawled, sitting himself on his bed.

Harry did as he was told. He didn't feel any braver now he was in someone else's house. Someone evil, for that matter. He pressed random buttons on the shower until it was a powerful jet of comfortable heat, and plucked off his boxers before stepping inside. A whoosh of relief spread all over his body, the water caressing it and relieving his muscles of any pain. Harry showered for ten minutes until he stepped out, wrapped his lower half in a towel and stepped into Malfoy's bedroom. Malfoy was reading a magazine, looking bored. When he saw Harry reappear he froze, unsure of himself.

"Well? Got any pyjamas for me, Malfoy? Or do I have to sleep wet and naked?" Harry scorned.

It looked as if Malfoy was tempted to say 'wet and naked, idiot', but he reluctantly threw Harry some pyjamas and sat on a chaise-longue near his bedside.

"Look away!" Harry snapped.

Malfoy chuckled and turned around, pleased at teasing Harry in this way. He slyly watched Harry dry himself through a reflection in a picture frame on the bedside table. Diving quickly into bed, Malfoy didn't want Harry to see that he liked Harry's drying motions. Craftily undressing in bed, Malfoy grinned and patted the space next to him.

"I'm going to sleep on that long chair. Or the floor. But not with _you_," Harry growled.

Malfoy scowled as he reflected on this insult. He turned to face the other way and decided that two can play at that game.

"Fine. You're probably used to sleeping on the floor like a barn animal anyway. It's practically five star treatment in that ramshackle of a house belonging to the Weasleys," he barked.

He felt Harry's soft hands turn him over roughly as he straddled Malfoy, pinning his arms to his sides. Harry's face screamed of rage and fury, and it was inches away from Malfoy's own delighted face.

"Don't ever insult my friends, you hear? I warned you in the letter I sent you. You want help, you treat me and my friends with respect, okay?" Harry said, shaking.

Malfoy was in a dreamy haze as he realised Harry was on top of him, sitting astride him in a way that made him go wild. He felt a tingling sensation shoot all over his body as Harry sat on his crotch, glaring into him, Harry's tender lips so close to his.

"Okay... But please do as I say and sleep in this bed? The other side is miles away from my side. It's like two separate beds, really," Malfoy suggested hopefully.

Harry thought for a minute, then reluctantly rolled over and got into bed beside Malfoy, who was very eager indeed. Harry realised Malfoy was right - these beds were comfortable. He found himself slipping out of consciousness...

Harry's eyes opened up again, minutes after he had fallen asleep. The sheets were tugging slightly but speedily, and Harry heard very soft, almost inaudible moans coming from Malfoy. Feeling disgusted, he pretended to groan loudly in his sleep and the sheets froze as Malfoy stopped what he was doing, listening to see if Harry was awake. Feeling satisfied with his interruption, Harry smiled to himself until Malfoy let out a final shuddered sigh.

He couldn't sleep at all for the rest of the night.


	4. Change in direction

****

Chapter Four - A change of direction

Harry heard Malfoy get up a few hours later, so he shut his eyes as Malfoy moved over and peered down at Harry, his shaky breaths tickling his cheek as he put a hand his arm, shaking him slightly.

"Good morning, sunshine," Malfoy chortled, slowly but surely getting up. He stumbled over to his dressing table (Malfoy had a dressing table - something to tell Ron) and peered into the mirror. Harry glanced through his eyelashes, being careful not to make it obvious he was awake. It then became very apparent that Malfoy was naked. Blushing profusely, Harry pulled the covers over his head to hide the disturbing image of Malfoy naked, still careful to act like he was sleeping. He heard Malfoy whistle a _Weird Sisters _song as he stepped into the en suite and turned on the shower.

Harry tried not to think of last night. He had slept in the vicinity of another man, a man who happened to be naked and who had happily jerked off as Harry lay next to him. Harry had felt so embarrassed and unsure of himself that he had stayed awake the rest of the night, not daring to move in case something else happened. He wanted revenge on Malfoy for keeping him up last night...

When Malfoy came back in, Harry was sitting up in bed, grinning.

"Happy to see me?" Malfoy grinned back. He strutted over to his dresser and struggled to open the door while keeping himself covered. "Well, give me a hand with this for a minute."

Now was Harry's chance.

"I dunno, you seem pretty good with your hands by yourself," Harry said, trying to keep his face straight. Malfoy froze in horror and nearly dropped his towel, it was noticeable that he had gone very red indeed.

"You kept me up last night," Harry continued. "Couldn't sleep. Kept on hearing you sighing with pleasure..."

"ALRIGHT!" Malfoy hissed. "I jerked off. Big deal. There's nothing wrong with it."

"There is if your in bed with another guy! And you're NAKED at the time!" Harry spat.

Malfoy grinned evilly. Good. Harry _had _seen him this morning. He thought he was fantasising again. Malfoy watched as Harry got out of bed in _his _pyjamas, walked over to the window and sat on the window seat. He seemed a bit upset.

"What's wrong, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"I just... it's nothing," Harry said quickly.

Malfoy sighed and flung open his dresser, picking out a few smart but casual clothes while Harry remained in the silk paisley pyjamas. Well, to each his own, Malfoy thought.

"Malfoy..." Harry began.

"What?" Malfoy sighed.

"Do you..." Harry trailed off, lost in a train of thought again.

Malfoy moaned impatiently and stomped over to Harry, sitting opposite him on the crushed green velvet that surrounded them.

"Do I what?" Malfoy snapped.

"...know where Hedwig is," Harry finished, although it wasn't what he was going to say. It was going to be more along the lines of "Do you fancy me?" But he didn't want to know. Not from another guy, especially not Draco Malfoy.

"She's probably in the stables or somewhere about there. Go later. First, we speak," Malfoy commanded.

"Fine. First. How did you get my address?" Harry asked.

"My father has connections in the Ministry. He got it for me back in second year. I was going to send you some curse mails, but I never got the chance," Malfoy answered simply.

Harry glared at him, his hair still messed up from waking up, his emerald eyes peering into Malfoy as he sat, hunched up, thinking things over. The sun glimmered down onto his fragile looking body, highlighting parts of his hair and the ivory skin at the opening of his pyjama shirt and on his face. He was beautiful in the morning light.

"Well - and this has been bugging me ever since I got here - why are you suddenly being so nice to me? I mean, I got your father in Azkaban, only a few months ago we were at each other's throats before Snape came along, I thought you hated me. Now you seem as gay as a puppy around me," Harry said, instantly regretting it.

"I AM NOT GAY!" Malfoy screamed. He stood up and glowered down at Harry, his blonde hair falling out of place as he clenched his fists, his teeth clenched with anger.

"Well what the fuck do you want with me? You're jerking off, parading around naked..."

"Fuck you," Malfoy suddenly snapped. "I don't need your help. I'll send the flying car round and you can fuck off home. Just because I'm not angry at you all the time, you think I'm demented or something!"

"WELL IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!" Harry roared, standing up so quickly he had to sit back down again.

Why had everything become so confusing? His head spun hysterically and he needed to be sick. He bounded to the bathroom and chucked up in the toilet. He leant back and wiped his sweaty brow, his breathing shallow and loud. He _did _want to go home. Malfoy appeared by his side, still angry.

"I'd rather you didn't empty your spew into my toilet, thanks. The car is coming round in a second. You can get your ass out of my pyjamas and-"

"Malfoy. Until I get a clear explanation, you can't expect me to understand anything!" Harry sighed.

"I expected you to accept me! Did it ever occur to you I could change? Even in a few months?" Malfoy spat.

Harry stood up, wiping his mouth. He smoothed down the pyjamas, oblivious to Malfoy's request to take them off. Storming over to the window where the black Mercedes hovered, Harry turned to Malfoy. As he stared into his dim blue eyes, Harry could see Malfoy was slightly upset, but his evil persona still stuck out in Harry's head.

"No, I didn't think you could change. Right up until the end of the school year, I always saw you as a mean person with an ugly heart. I still think that's you under there, but you're just confused because of everything that's happening. Well, I hope your problem gets solved, whatever the fuck it was. Goodbye, Malfoy. See you in school," Harry muttered, opening the window and climbing into the car. He slammed the door and the car flickered until it was invisible and was gone.

Malfoy sank to the floor, breathing heavily, his heart thumping crazily. Ugly heart? How dare he! Malfoy glanced up to the spot where Harry had been.

"Harry - come back..." Malfoy whispered, tears trickling down his face.


	5. A House Elf and a Weasley

****

Chapter Five - A house elf and a Weasley

Harry got out at the end of his street, glad to be rid of anything to do with Malfoy. Hoping that Hedwig would come home soon, Harry decided to write to Ron and Hermione to tell them where he had been. Sprinting up to the front door, Harry tiptoed upstairs to find his room just as he left it. The Dursleys usually didn't wake up on a Sunday until the late morning - they always expected Harry to do some chores and make breakfast, however. Grabbing a piece of parchment from his open trunk, Harry began to scribble furiously.

****

Ron, Hermione,

You'll never guess what happened to me. It's all happening so quick, I hope the school year is just as exciting as this.

Well to cut a long story short (I'm not making Hedwig suffer) MALFOY invited me over to his Manor to help him with a problem. What a prat he turned out to be. He got all huffy and booted me out a few hours later.

Oh and Ron - Malfoy has a dressing table. I think he even had make up on it! Git.

Just send Hedwig back with a date for The Burrow and we'll see what we can do. I really want to come.

Harry.

Harry smiled guiltily and sealed the letter. He hadn't given them all the details - he didn't want to. It wasn't like his views of Malfoy had changed - he still disliked him intensely - but he had also seen a different side to Malfoy. A towel-wearing sleep-with-me side.

Just as Harry finished tidying everything away and was about to get a few minutes sleep, there was a knock on the door and Uncle Vernon shuffled in, his moustache ruffled up from sleep.

"Boy," he began, "start making breakfast, we ... what the _devil _are you wearing?"

Harry realised he was asking about the silk paisley pyjamas and his face reddened. He forgot to give them back to Malfoy when he stomped off earlier this morning.

"I ... uh ... they're a birthday present," Harry stated. "It _is _my birthday you know."

Uncle Vernon glared evilly at Harry, but he seemed to accept the explanation. He didn't want to bring up the subject of birthdays again, in case Harry wanted something. With the Order on his side, Harry could demand anything from the Dursleys.

"Last night," Uncle Vernon began, "there was a bang. I didn't hear it, but Petunia did, and she was too terrified to investigate. What happened?"

Harry froze. Deciding it would be a stupid idea to tell the truth ('Oh, it was another flying car, they kidnapped me last night and dropped me off home this morning,') Harry tried to think of a good excuse.

"I fell out of bed," Harry lied.

"Oh really? Well, don't be so clumsy next time. We want breakfast in twenty minutes," Uncle Vernon snarled. "So hurry up."

Alone again, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he realised Uncle Vernon hadn't realised he had disappeared and also at the fact Hedwig was standing outside his window.

"Hedwig!" Harry grinned, opening the window for her. "Listen, I know you're tired but this is a letter for Ron and Hermione. Could you take it to The Burrow for me?"

Hedwig glanced at him, obviously tired. She reluctantly stuck out her leg and hooted softly with weariness. Harry grinned again and tied the letter to her leg. She nipped his fingers affectionately before taking off, dropping slightly every now and then, trying to stay awake. Harry pulled on some old clothes (Dudley's old clothes) and trampled downstairs, shuffling about in the kitchen as he made breakfast. He was tempted to write to the Order and tell them he was still being ordered about, but Uncle Vernon had hissed that he had to earn his keep in the house, so he agreed to make breakfast and do general cleaning every now and then. It wasn't until the bacon was spitting ferociously that Harry fully understood that he had slept with Malfoy. Malfoy! Ugh. That platinum blonde twit had _yearned _forHarry to sleep alongside him.

Harry felt bored as the next few minutes passed with nothing exciting happening, until Dudley tripped downstairs on his way to nab some bacon - resulting in huge holes in the last four steps. After a lot of kicking and screaming, he accepted the sat down in front of the television in the kitchen, scoffing loudly. The newsreaders on TV were gabbling about something, but when Harry recognised a very familiar face on it he froze.

"Dudley, turn that up a minute," Harry ordered quietly.

Remembering last night, Dudley turned it up and edged away from Harry. Harry sat down on a chair and looked at the screen with mixed emotions, both horror and glee.

"- We're happy to announce we have a new reporter with us! Please welcome Rita Skeeter!" A newsreader cried.

Harry laughed coldly. If only they knew she was capable of tearing peoples lives apart with her Quick Quotes Quill. Then he felt a chill down his spine. What if she blabbed about the wizarding world to them? Surely not. She looked very weak and slightly flustered.

"Today," she began, sighing impatiently, "The Minister for the Agricultural Department stated that-"

"Boring," Dudley sighed, switching channels. Harry glared at him. Dudley returned the glare, though half-heartedly. "You bore me too. All you do is whine and complain."

Harry seethed with rage. What a hypocrite! He wasn't in the mood to be insulted. With breakfast made and the kitchen clean, Harry trooped upstairs and fell onto his bed. He couldn't help but wish he was in Malfoy's bed, although it was only for the comfort, _not _for the company. A slight wind breezed past, and there was a small popping sound from the end of Harry's bed.

"Harry Potter!" a voice cried.

"D-Dobby?" Harry gasped, springing up.

Dobby the house elf had been there to help Harry ever since Harry set him free from the Malfoys in his second year. Most of the time he had been annoying, nearly killing Harry with a rogue bludger and almost getting Harry and Ron expelled. However, he had saved Harry's backside when he stole some gillyweed from Snape's potions cupboard to help Harry with the second task in the Triwizard Tournament. Dobby stood by the window with his multi coloured outfit on, sporting about ten socks on each foot and various t-shirts and shorts. He even wore a bright magenta tea cosy and some rather questionable eighties sunglasses.

"Aren't you a bit hot, Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Not in the slightest, sir! I is able wear anything and I is not feeling a difference!" Dobby cried gleefully.

"So... why are you here?" Harry demanded. "Please don't tell me I'm in grave danger," he added, moaning slightly.

"Oh! Harry Potter is not in grave danger! No sir! Quite the opposite!" Dobby smirked, winking.

Dobby? _Winking_?

"Dobby, what's going on?" Harry asked seriously.

"Harry Potter, sir, has a _secret admirer_!" Dobby giggled, squeaking the last two words.

"What?" Harry gabbled. "Who?"

"Dobby is not telling! But Dobby must add: it is a _boy_!" Dobby squeaked again.

"A BOY!? Dobby... tell me. Now," Harry ordered.

But Dobby merely clicked his fingers and with one final smirk, he disappeared. Harry sat, dumbfounded. Malfoy was the only person that came into his head, but even if he _did _like Harry, he wasn't about to go and tell a bunch of house elves. He lay on his bed, mulling it over in his head until he drifted off to sleep.

The next few days were very boring indeed. Harry had taken to re-reading all of his school books so he had something to do while the Dursleys treated Dudley to days out to the cinema, trying to keep him away from his friends. They had all been discovered by the police smoking weed, so Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had decided to mollycoddle Dudley to try and break his rebellious phase. This was all very entertaining, and Harry was glad he was left alone in the house. One night he had dreamt about something very strange. Malfoy was standing at the altar, crying in a huge white dress, calling for Harry as Harry ran out of the church, got into a car with Neville Longbottom and sped off to Diagon Alley to buy some dragon scales. He finally awoke to the sound of tapping on his window, and hoping it was Hedwig, sprang up to get it. It was that raven again. Malfoy. Harry noticed how the word 'Potter' had been scribbled and re-written several times.

****

Harry,

I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about anything that happened.

I'm sorry. For everything.

Draco

Harry sat on his bed in surprise. Why was Malfoy messing around with him like this? When did he start calling Harry by his first name anyway? With his wedding dream still fresh in his mind, Harry felt dizzy. Was it really Malfoy who liked Harry? Even so, it would be a brainless idea. It would ruin the Malfoy pride, he would look stupid dating a Gryffindor, even though the Gryffindor in question happened to be The Boy Who Lived... That was another point. His father was (or had been) a Death Eater, a servant to Lord Voldemort. How would it look if his son was dating the one person who had destroyed his master countless times?

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled, making Harry jump.

Harry approached the top of the stairs and peeked down at Uncle Vernon. He didn't look happy at being woken up so early, but there was also something else to his discontentment.

"There's someone here for you," Uncle Vernon spat.

He thrust open the door for Harry to see his visitor.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron grinned.


	6. Enough is enough

****

Chapter Six - Enough is enough

"Ron! What are you doing here?" Harry beamed.

Uncle Vernon growled slightly, causing them both to jump. Slowly ascending the stairs, Uncle Vernon glared at Harry and signalled with his eyes back to Ron. Ignoring his uncle's gesture, Harry dodged swiftly past him and went to greet Ron properly, jumping the last four steps that were still not repaired from Dudley's fall.

"Harry, mate, I-"

Ron was unable to finish his sentence as a whirlwind of bushy hair embraced Harry, uttering words Harry didn't understand.

"Harryyouidiotwhatifitwasatrapivebeensoworriedaboutyousohasronimgladyouresafedonteverdothatagain!"

"Slow down, Hermione," Harry mumbled, his mouth pressed up against her mousy brown hair.

Hermione pulled away from Harry and took a deep breath. She glanced at Ron who shrugged his shoulders in response, obviously showing her she could do all the talking.

"Harry, you idiot! What if going to Malfoy's was a trap? I've been so worried about you, so has Ron. Don't ever do that again!" Hermione cried.

"Hang on!" Harry yelled back in protest. "I didn't explain everything to you."

"Well why not? Honestly Harry, sometimes you-"

"I didn't _want _to tell you," Harry whispered.

Ron and Hermione each looked as if they had been slapped in the face. Ron frowned at Harry for a minute, as if he wasn't sure Harry was who he remembered him to be. Hermione looked wounded and stepped towards Ron.

"Okay, fine," she said shakily. "Why didn't you want to tell us, Harry? We're your best friends."

"It's too complicated," Harry snapped. He softened when they both looked offended this time. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Harry," Hermione started angrily, "All the times you told us in the past you were hearing things, something was going to happen, you were dreaming or you had a premonition - we believed you! Why is this different?"

This was true. Harry scowled. Maybe he just didn't want to tell them! Wasn't he allowed any secrets?

"I'm allowed to keep _one _secret to myself, aren't I?" Harry said indignantly. "You may be used to knowing about _everything _that happens to me - but I'd rather not tell you about this experience, okay?"

Harry realised what he was saying. How horrible could someone get? There they stood, his two best friends, feeling concerned about him - and all he could do was bawl at them. Who had he become since the visit to Malfoy Manor?

"You've changed, Harry," Ron whispered, choosing to speak. "Leave her alone, she just worries about you."

"Just fuck off," Harry spat. He bit his lip in surprise. "Oh guys, I'm sor-"

Hermione slapped him in the face. She didn't intend to, as she looked horrified when she drew her hand back. Ron looked stern though. He clearly felt Harry deserved it. Harry blinked back tears as he rubbed the side of his face, not looking at either of them. He felt his heart twinge with hurt as Ron marched back outside again.

"Harry, I'm sorry!" Hermione sobbed.

"It's okay, I was out of order," Harry admitted. "I'm just so confused."

"Ron, come back!" Hermione called.

Ron returned, reluctantly. He put his arm around Hermione when he saw her sobbing, immediately getting the wrong idea.

"What did you say to her?" Ron yelled, glaring fiercely at Harry.

"I didn't say anything," Harry stammered.

"Why are you so messed up all of a sudden?" Ron snapped.

"Ron," Hermione muttered. "You've got the wrong idea."

Harry could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he determinedly blinked them back. He had made a spectacle of himself in front of the Dursleys, he didn't want to do the same in front of Ron and Hermione. Hermione continued to sob, although she was calming down. Harry suspected she was also crying from the way he had treated her. A great jab of guilt pierced his heart. Looking over at Ron, another jab followed suit. Ron was comforting Hermione, murmuring into her ear and the only words Harry could pick up were 'not worth it' and 'let's go'.

"Don't go," Harry spluttered quickly.

Ron led Hermione to the door, still murmuring in her ear. Harry panicked and burst out what he had decided was definitely the truth.

"I think Malfoy has feelings for me," he muttered.

They were out of the door when they both froze up. Hermione gasped in surprise, turned to face Harry, and gasped again. Ron looked a bit startled.

"I know it seems a bit bizarre, believe me. But he seemed to genuinely like me," Harry explained.

"What if it's a trap?" Ron demanded.

"I don't think it is," Harry replied, slightly annoyed.

"I don't like Malfoy. _We _don't like Malfoy," Ron said, disgusted.

"_You _may not like Malfoy, but I've been thinking, and-"

"What? You like Malfoy now? You're yelling at us and liking Malfoy?" Ron hissed angrily.

"Let me finish!" Harry yelled.

"Ron, Harry's trying to tell us! Just let him say it," Hermione protested.

Harry sighed and sat down, careful not to fall into a Dudley hole. He didn't like Malfoy - but he didn't hate him anymore. He felt bad for scorning him so much that day - he wanted to ask for forgiveness and maybe make a truce. He didn't point this out to Ron and Hermione, though. Feeling like he was treading in boiling water with Ron especially, Harry just quickly explained how Malfoy had treated him equally and how he had changed.

"Oh," Ron mumbled.

"I'm sorry about all the stuff I said," Harry stated. Hermione nodded gratefully, Ron raised his eyebrows.

There was definitely something wrong with him. Harry had never seen him angry like this, apart from when Harry was chosen for the Triwizard Tournament. Even then Harry had put it down to jealousy. He thought it would be strange of Ron to be jealous over this, as Ron clearly stated - he didn't like Malfoy. Desperately trying to change the subject, Harry explained about the holes in the stairs. He was pleased to see Hermione and Ron chuckle quietly as he forced some laughter of his own.

"So why did you drop around anyway?" Harry asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"To see if you still wanted to come around to The Burrow, but..." Hermione trailed off, glancing at Ron.

Ron hesitated for a moment, staring wistfully at Harry. They had put up with yelling sessions at Twelve Grimmauld Place last year, and Ron could always boot Harry out if things got out of hand. He doubted they would though, Harry seemed okay now.

"Yeah, do you still want to come over?" Ron finally asked, after what seemed an eternity.

"Of course I do," Harry muttered gratefully. "We'll have so much fun, we'll probably lose track of time!"

He wasn't sure who he was trying to kid, although he packed his trunk cheerily after telling Uncle Vernon, trying to convince himself he was okay. Although someone was gnawing at the back of his mind, someone he was constantly starting to think about.

And that someone sat alone, ten miles away, in his Manor.


	7. Contradictions and comparisons

****

Chapter Seven - Contradictions and comparisons

"How did you get here, anyway?" Harry asked, dragging his trunk out of the front door as Ron and Hermione helped him with his belongings.

"Mrs. Figg. She let us use her fireplace when she got connected to the floo network," Ron replied, struggling with Hedwig's cage.

Harry's thoughts swivelled back to Malfoy and his silky soft skin. "Oh. Is he - I mean, she - waiting for us?"

Ron nodded and continued down the path towards Mrs. Figg's house. Harry ambled slowly, always thinking the same things - how he regretted leaving Malfoy, and what could have happened if he'd stayed.

"This is stupid," Harry thought sulkily. "He's my worst enemy. I hate him."

Truth be told, Harry wasn't sure of that last statement anymore. Sure, Harry still reckoned Malfoy was going to become a Death Eater, but he didn't think about that side of Malfoy anymore. Lately, Harry had been dreaming of what it would be like to nibble on Malfoy's tender lips...

"Stop it," Harry said aloud.

"What?" Ron asked, setting the cage down on the pavement. Hermione snapped out of a world of her own and turned to face Harry, a quizzical expression on her face. Harry shrugged them off, making up a lame excuse about a neighbour's cat being in the way of his path. He knew it was a poor explanation when both Ron and Hermione raised identically disbelieving eyebrows, but Harry didn't have time to be asked questions. Grabbing the trunk more firmly, he tried to clear his mind of Malfoy, and failed miserably. Images of the naked Draco played back in his head, glowing in front of his eyes, taunting him with something that he had possibly turned down.

While Harry obsessed over his questionable sexual preferences, he could tell Ron and Hermione were keeping something from him. The way they were forever side-glancing and wriggling eyebrows to each other made Harry feel uncomfortable. Not to mention slightly irate. Once again, they had managed to squeeze out a secret of Harry's, as well as keeping a secret of their own, refusing to tell him, constantly reminding him it was for his own good not to know. The word 'unfair' was an understatement.

By the time Harry had finally - although reluctantly - returned back to reality, he was standing in the familiar cabbage smelling living room that belonged to Mrs. Figg, and Hermione had just been engulfed in a lick of cool, green flames.

"Do you want to go next?" Ron asked, nudging Harry softly.

"Yes," Harry replied, stepping into the fireplace. He clutched his trunk, wary of the ride ahead of him. Picking up some floo powder, Harry threw it to the ground before yelling his destination ("The Burrow!"), and dearly wished he had removed his glasses first.

After an unpleasant whirlwind of colours and bumps, Harry tumbled out of the Weasley's fireplace and onto the cold stone floor. Malfoy's black Mercedes had been _far _better than this.

"Watch out!" Ron yelled, landing on top of Harry. Despite being so lanky, he was still quite heavy.

"Gerroff!" Harry mumbled, shoving Ron aside. "Have you been eating Hagrid's rock cakes? Seems like they've stayed put in your gut."

Ignoring Harry, Ron bounced up and went to greet his family, leaving an ashen-faced Harry alone with his trunk and cage. Although feeling mildly insulted, Harry followed suit and traipsed into the room where everyone sat chatting merrily, their red heads bobbing with enthusiasm as Charlie talked about his job. Harry didn't know why, but he felt slightly annoyed at their cheerfulness, and how they had to be so _happy_ all the time. Clearing his throat, Harry sat down next to Hermione and fixatedly grinned at everyone, all the while thinking about how drab the place actually looked.

"Hello Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley beamed, offering him some burnt sausages and overcooked bacon.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley," Harry replied, trying to keep up his façade. He politely refused the food and struck up a conversation with Fred and George.

"How has the joke shop been?" Harry asked.

"Oh don't get them started on _that_, Harry! Now eat," Mrs Weasley ordered, shoving a plateful of food under his nose.

__

Would you let them answer me? I don't want your burnt food, either. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley!"

"It's alright, actually. We've been earning quite a bit of money!" Fred said proudly, while George pretended to roll around in cash.

__

Which must make a change. "That's great."

"C'mon Harry, we'll dump your stuff upstairs and then come back down," Ron muttered.

Hermione followed Ron and Harry up the stairs as they struggled with Harry's stuff, nagging them about summer studying and if they had prepared for their NEWTs.

"Actually Hermione, I re-read all of my books this summer," Harry announced smugly.

"Good for you, Harry!" Hermione cried joyously. "What about you, Ron?"

"I don't have as much time on my hands, like some people," he mumbled, scowling as he quickened his pace.

"Oh Ron, it doesn't take a lot of time to do this! This was your exact problem last year," Hermione moaned, rolling her eyes.

Harry didn't hear much else. A loud ringing was banging in his ears, his face heating up considerably. Had Ron just slyly insulted him? Okay, so Ron was busy in the holidays, doing whatever he does in this house. But that didn't mean he could imply that Harry just sat in his room all day! He couldn't!

"Ron, where shall I put this?" Harry asked, a little too fiercely, shaking the cage.

"Oh, over by the window, next to Pig's," Ron replied, setting Harry's trunk next to a small camp bed.

__

That's nothing compared to Malfoy's double bed with silver satin sheets. "Thanks, Ron."

Harry eyed up the moth eaten Chudley Cannons duvet that he was supposed to sleep with, and mentally retched. He felt a little spoilt after being pampered for the few hours he was at Malfoy's, but who cares? Even the colours on the duvet made him dizzy.

"So, what _have _you been doing all summer?" Harry asked.

"De-gnoming the garden, helping George and Fred with their shop and hanging out with Hermione," Ron replied.

"So not much, then," Harry glowered. _What a hypocrite._

"Guess not," Ron mumbled.

The three friends glanced around the room awkwardly, Harry at one end of the room, Ron and Hermione at the other. They sat comfortably on Ron's bed while Harry leaned against the windowsill, wishing for all the world he had some of that crushed green velvet that had been in Malfoy's room. Glimpsing at his two friends, Harry was certain they knew something he didn't. The continuous secret signs and mouthing to each other was so blatantly obvious that Harry had to say something.

"Keeping anything from me?" he hissed, making them jump. Ron shook his head furiously, Hermione just sighed deeply.

"Harry, you don't want to know," she muttered.

"FUCK! I _do _want to know!" Harry exploded.

"Merlin's beard, calm down! Hermione doesn't want to tell you!" Ron cried.

Harry reluctantly did as he was told and exhaled deeply, running his hands through his raven-black hair, trying to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. First, he told them his secret, but now they refused to tell him theirs, then Ron shrewdly stated that Harry did sod all in his summer holidays, while he himself had done fuck all. The hypocrisy swam around the room madly, dancing around the three friends and taunting Harry, daring him to blow up once again.

Ginny zoomed into the room, rummaging around Ron's old books as she held up her Hogwarts list, trying to pick out the books that she needed. Harry realised Ginny was the only Weasley he pitied the most, having more hand-me-downs than Ron ever had. Even her socks were an old pair of Bill's.

"Hello, Harry! What have you got planned for today, then?" Ginny asked, grasping the books she had chosen.

__

Probably de-gnoming. "I don't know, ask Ron."

"We should de-gnome the garden first, Ginny, then we'll see what happens," Ron stated.

__

Oh, the joys of being right. "I'm actually quite tired, Ron. Can I just lie down for a few minutes?"

Ron sulked for a minute, but reluctantly agreed and stomped down to the kitchen. Hermione kissed Harry on the top of the head, desperately trying to get him to cheer up. She then followed Ron, muttering about how stupid gnomes were. As soon as Harry heard Hermione's shrill voice in the kitchen, he sprang up and began to write an owl to Malfoy.

****

Malfoy,

Apology accepted. I should apologize too, I'm sorry for the way I acted.

I know this may seem daft, but, after much thought, I've decided that...

Harry paused, unsure of what to write. He couldn't just say "I've decided that I quite fancy you, come and rescue me from this Hypocrite Hell Hole,"; Harry knew he had to be more subtle than that.

****

I've decided that I want to help you with your problem. Just send me Hedwig back with your answer.

Harry.

As Hedwig wasn't back yet, Harry rolled up the parchment and slipped it into one of his socks. It was when he was lying uncomfortably down on the camp bed, tossing and turning, that Harry realised the one thing he was so sure would never had been true:

He preferred Malfoy to his best friends.


	8. Time to grovel

****

Chapter Eight - Time to grovel

Harry remained in Ron's room for quite some time, pondering about the new school year and how things might change. Peering outside into the garden, Harry could see Ron and Hermione sweating profusely as they chased and threw gnomes out of the Weasley garden. Still watching his friends, almost gleefully, Harry didn't hear someone come up the stairs, open Ron's door and sit on his bed.

"Why aren't you with them?" Ginny asked.

"Oh!" Harry swung around. "I'm a bit tired, Ginny."

"Well, you're not asleep," Ginny stated.

This was true. Harry glared at her for pointing out his mistake.

"Don't glare at me like that," Ginny said, looking a tad irked. "Why are you avoiding Ron and 'Mione?"

'Mione? What? "I'm not avoiding Ron and _Her_mione, Ginny. I'm tired! I was just about to go to sleep, but I heard the ruckus outside and I was just curious. Leave me alone," Harry spat.

With that, he jumped back into the camp bed and turned away from Ginny, blushing furiously. He heard her breathe steadily for a few minutes, before the bed creaked as her weight lifted. Pausing at the door, Ginny turned to look at Harry.

"You're not fooling me, Harry," she said softly. "There's something different about you, and I intend to find out."

Harry was on the brink of insanity the next few days. Hedwig hadn't arrived yet, so Malfoy's letter remained in the sock. He had to help de-gnome the garden, which was a tough job, plus the sun continued to glare down on them, causing Harry's neck to burn severely. Ron's snoring in the night meant that Harry got little or no sleep at all, so he had resorted to sighing heavily and muttering for Ron to shut up, hoping that he would hear. He never did. Ginny was constantly watching Harry, making loud noises of disapproval whenever he snapped at someone. The gnomes were continuously biting Harry's fingers, leaving Harry with bloody hands while Ron and Hermione always escaped unscathed. Hermione had started nagging earlier than usual, quizzing Harry and Ron about their NEWTs and panicking about the new school year.

"Harry, we have to go de-gnome the garden again-"

"No Harry, stay with me and do some NEWTs practise papers-"

"I know what you're up to, Harry-"

"Oh Harry, dear, here's some Murtlap juice for your bites, you shouldn't be so vicious with the gnomes-"

Harry fought the urge to scream very loud. Deciding that it would be best to bottle up his feelings rather than yell at everyone for their ramblings, Harry just smiled and didn't say a word. The Murtlap juice was making his fingers feel a lot better, and he didn't want to spoil the mood. Ron passed them all a drink, Harry's an unusual pink colour. He took a sip nonetheless.

"You haven't said much, Harry," Hermione mumbled.

"I don't need to, I just want to listen to you," Harry said cheerily. _What? No he didn't._

"Oh," Hermione said, brightening up.

"This is a fantastic place, I never want to leave," Harry grinned. _What was in this juice? It was making him incredibly happy._

Hermione glared at Ron. Oblivious to the fact Harry sat right there, she thumped Ron and slurped her own juice.

"You gave him that new kind of Veritaserum that George and Fred made, haven't you? The one that makes the user compliment everyone and everything?" she hissed.

"Yeah, so? It makes him act happy. He's been really sulky for far too long," Ron murmured back.

What? How could he? "Ron, what are you doing? ... because you look fantastic! I love what you've done with your ears!" _Merlin's beard._

Despite being angry at Ron a minute ago, Hermione laughed, snorting her juice all over her jeans. Ron merely glared at her, flattening his ears self-consciously.

"And Hermione! Such beautiful hair! I bet plenty of equally beautiful birds can find a home in such a place," Harry giggled. _That was an insult, wasn't it?_

This time Ron laughed, pointing at Hermione's head. She batted his hand away furiously, running her hands through her hair... and getting them caught up in it. Her hands were sticky from her juice from when she had snorted in laughter, and had now been semi-glued to her head. This made Ron laugh harder, while Harry sat, starting to feel the potion wear off.

"These aren't compliments, they're hidden insults! So much for those galleons I spent!" Ron cried, in between giggles.

Fred and George walked in to see the commotion, although they were too late as everyone had finally calmed down. They sighed impatiently and turned to leave. Harry thought it would be funny to play around with them all for a while.

"Nice ass, George. You too, Fred," he tittered. _Score one for Harry Potter._

Fred and George froze, slowly turning around to face Harry. Ron and Hermione laughed nervously, realising that what Ron had done was a big mistake. Fred glanced at Ron suspiciously while George glanced at the pink juice. As they left, the trio could hear them roar with laughter as they descended the stairs. Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione.

"Ron, Hermione, you two should date! You make such a _lovely _couple," he chuckled. Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione blushed angrily.

"No we don't! RON!" Hermione squeaked.

"The potion should wear off soon," Ron said nervously.

But Harry decided to continue his escapade. Bouncing up suddenly, he made for the door, skipping merrily. Ron grabbed the back of his jumped and flung Harry onto his camp bed. It hurt a lot.

"Oi! What was that for?" Harry yelled.

"You can't see my family while you're like this," Ron explained.

"S'your fault," Harry slurred.

He rolled around on his bed, acting drunk, all the while continuously pointing at Ron and crying "S'your fault, Ronald!", Hermione gasped and, hoping he hadn't secretly been sick or passed out, Harry stopped messing around and turned to face her.

"Harry! Hedwig's here!" Hermione cried.

Harry sprung up and opened the window for her. She looked weak and her wing was bloody.

"What happened to her? Why, when the last place she was sent to was here, did she disappear?" Harry asked.

"Well, she gave me the letter, then she turned around and flew back out of the window. I thought you told her to go back to you," Ron muttered, gazing at the wing. "Look, I'll take her down to mum, see what she can do..."

"Thanks," Harry replied. _Why had Hedwig gone off like that?_

"Wait, look at this..." Ron said, bewildered. "There's a mark on her wing!"

Harry and Hermione leaned in closer. Sure enough, there were four black letters painted across her left wing: "D.M. M.M.".

"D.M., M.M," Ron read aloud, confused. "Well, I'll ask mum about it."

He tramped downstairs, along with Hermione who loved a good puzzle. Harry knew full well who had done this. Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor. The question was, _why _had he done it?

A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione came back in with a fully healed Hedwig. Hermione was moody because she hadn't been able to figure it out, throwing herself onto the bed and sighing loudly every two minutes. Ron still looked the same - clueless.

"Mum didn't know either. Hey, do you think 'D.M.' stands for Dark Mark?" Ron asked, excited that he might crack the code.

"Then what does 'M.M.' mean?" Hermione snapped.

"Are you really this stupid?" Harry spat, causing them to frown at him. "Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor! D.M. M.M.!"

"Oh!" Hermione squealed. Ron looked considerably crestfallen.

Harry grabbed the piece of parchment from his sock in the trunk, careful not to show Ron and Hermione he had already written something, and added to the letter.

****

P.S. Why did you hurt Hedwig? What's with the initials anyway?

Quickly rolling it up, Harry beckoned Hedwig over, gave her an owl treat and went to tie up the letter to her leg. She took one look at the parchment and hooted angrily, then proceeded to nip Harry's finger hard, flying to the top of the wardrobe.

"She's scared," Hermione said, trying to call her down.

"Use Pig, he's pretty dumb," Ron suggested.

Harry tied the letter to the over-eager owl, whispered 'Malfoy Manor' and opened the window for him. When Pig had flown out of sight, Harry flopped down onto his camp bed, Ron on his own bed, and Hermione still tried to beckon Hedwig down from the wardrobe.

"Why do you think he did that?" Ron asked.

"Beats me," Harry said, swallowing hard. _Was it out of spite?_

The sun was slowly setting, filling the sky with shades of pink and amber, illuminating the faces of the trio as they sat, Harry on his camp bed, the other two on Ron's bed, as they discussed Malfoy long into the evening.

"He's probably surrounded by all the other Malfoy's, getting the Dark Mark tattooed onto his arm," Ron growled.

"Actually no, he's had to keep to himself. I saw no dark mark, either," Harry said suddenly.

"What? When did he show you his forearms?" Ron asked.

"Er.. he was wearing a funny top. I could see up to his shoulders," Harry lied.

"Malfoy wouldn't wear clothes like that. He has to be top to toe in silver, black or green - you know that, Harry," Hermione sighed.

Sitting in silence once again, Harry pondered crawling into bed and going to sleep early. He could get some peace then.

"How many days until the new term starts?" Harry demanded.

"Three. Why? Blimey Harry, you're desperate to leave, aren't you?" Ron mumbled, highly affronted.

__

Yes I am. Get me away from here. "Nah, I want to have a go at Malfoy," Harry lied, grinning as he did so. Well, it wasn't a lie. He _did _want a shot at Malfoy, although not the fighting kind.

Harry finally got around to sleeping, while Ron and Hermione disappeared for a while. It was still early, but Harry had made up an excuse that he was feeling weird from the potion he took earlier on today. This worked extremely well, plus Harry had the added bonus of seeing Ron's guilt plagued face. Harry must have been asleep for no more than ten minutes when there was a sharp tapping on the window. Pig was back. Hedwig was fast asleep in her cage, so Harry clamped a hand around Pig's beak before he could hoot noisily.

****

Potter,

I don't want your help anymore. I offered you the chance to help me, you blew it up in my face. Even though we are past apologizing, I still dislike you immensely.

Time to grovel, eh Potter?

As for your owl... she was attacked by my raven when she arrived at my Manor. Why did you send her when you had no letter? I marked her because, well, she's the next best thing, and since I couldn't hurt you physically, I decided to do that.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry's mind was on hold. He re-read the letter several times, speechless. So many questions swam in front of his eyes, each one significant. Why had Hedwig gone to Malfoy Manor? Why did Malfoy want to hurt Harry now?

Sighing heavily, Harry collapsed down onto his bed, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. He would never take advice from someone so evil, but Malfoy's suggestion was the only one that could patch things up between them.

It was time to grovel.


	9. The Accident

****

A/N: Sorry this chapter isn't as long as the others, I guess I have a tiny case of writer's block. =D Thanks for the great reviews.

Chapter Nine - The Accident

After packing up his belongings from a very long stay at the Burrow, Harry heaved a sigh of relief. Soon he would be back at Hogwarts, and back to Quidditch.

Ron turned to Harry, who had arrived in the kitchen. "You all set, Harry?"

"Yeah. How are we going?" Harry asked.

"Muggle cars," Ron said reluctantly.

If Harry remembered correctly, this was his sixth visit to the King's Cross station in London. Even so, he still got shivers of excitement when he came here, for he knew he would be going back to Hogwarts.

"Come on, Harry! Don't keep on staring at the place!" Ginny yelled.

Harry sped up, overtaking Ginny and the others, dashed straight through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and arrived at Platform nine and three quarters. He soon found an empty carriage and rapidly closed the door behind him. Harry wished that nobody found him there, he would rather be alone. Everyone had been gnawing on his nerves the few remaining days. What seemed to be harmless nagging to them nearly drove Harry over the edge.

Fortunately, Hermione and Ron were prefects, so they couldn't come and sit next to him. While this had annoyed Harry the year before, he didn't mind it now. The others, such as Ginny and Neville Longbottom, seemed to be with their friends, so Harry got his wish of being by himself. As he was waiting for the train to start, Harry could hear all the other students search for carriages and chuckle happily as they met up with old friends, talking about the summer they had just left behind. Harry shut his eyes, ready to get some proper sleep, away from Ron's snoring.

"This one will have to do," a familiar voice said, whipping the door open and stepping in.

Harry peered through half closed eyes to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sit alongside him in his carriage. Shuddering involuntarily, he pulled his knees up to his body and continued to try to sleep, though he could feel the butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"Hey Malfoy, shall we curse him?" Crabbe sniggered.

"No," Malfoy said coldly. Harry tensed up, aware of all three of them staring at him.

"Why not? His friends cursed us last year," Goyle wailed.

"I know that. Let's not sink to their level, shall we?" Malfoy said firmly.

There was no further mention of cursing Harry. Crabbe and Goyle talked amongst themselves, while Malfoy sighed loudly and moved himself so he could see out the window, so he was now in front of Harry. It was then that Harry realised that Malfoy was a prefect - what was he doing here?

As if to answer his question, Malfoy moaned to Crabbe and Goyle about the space in the prefect carriage.

"I knew we should have arrived earlier. I can't believe we had to stop for you two to get some more food. Besides, I wasn't going to share a carriage with the Weasel and that filthy mudblood in a million years," he scoffed.

Harry kicked Malfoy hard, making out he was stretching. Even though he thought his friends were mildly annoying, there was still a trace of his old self that dearly wanted to throw a book at Malfoy's head. While Crabbe and Goyle grew deep in conversation about a house elf that they had found (and tortured) in Crabbe's attic, Malfoy leaned in closer to Harry, brushed his hair away from his face (causing the butterflies to zoom around wildly in Harry's stomach), and put his lips right against Harry's ear.

" I know you're awake Potter," Malfoy whispered maliciously, "Shame I intend to insult your friends all the way there. If you wake up properly, Crabbe and Goyle will probably curse you. How convenient."

Harry could feel Malfoy stare him right into his closed eyes now, as if waiting for a reaction. He could feel those same shaky breaths tickle his face, and Harry imagined the mental picture of Malfoy leaning in, as if to kiss Harry, and wondered why Crabbe and Goyle hadn't pointed this out. It was at that moment that the train decided to jerk terribly, causing Malfoy to lurch forward - his lips landing smack bang onto Harry's. Although it wasn't the way Harry intended their first kiss to be, (he had thought it through - it would definitely be a passionate kiss, full of anger and built up tension, probably in the Forbidden Forest), he still liked it, judging by the way his body tingled excitedly, mainly focusing on his groin.

Malfoy leaned back, stunned into silence. Crabbe and Goyle were banging loudly on the carriage door, complaining about the juddering train.

"Get out of my way, fools! I need to go to the bathroom," Malfoy cried, slamming the door behind him.

Harry thought quickly. Deciding it would be best to chase Malfoy, Harry bounced up, locking the door behind him. Assuming neither idiots knew the unlocking spell (_alohomora_), he found the only toilet that was engaged and desperately tried to think of a plan. After five minutes, Harry grew weary of trying to act cool and collected when Malfoy stomped out, which seemed to be taking forever. He walked straight up to the toilet door, and, after listening in to hear Malfoy muttering incessantly, knocked loudly.

Malfoy peered out warily. When he saw Harry's eyes stare back, he pulled him in quickly.

"What do you want?" Malfoy hissed.

"We need to sort this out, Malfoy-"

"No we don't!"

"Please, hear me out-"

"FUCK OFF!" Malfoy screamed, pinning Harry against the wall. "You fucking hypocrite! You freaked out at the Manor, you left me when I needed you the most..."

Malfoy trailed off, loosening his grip. Harry sensed sadness in his eyes for a few seconds, before they sparkled angrily once again. Harry could feel Malfoy's hand press harder into his chest as they trembled madly.

"There is nothing to sort out, Potter," Malfoy whispered finally.

"But, the kiss-"

"It wasn't a kiss, it was an accident," Malfoy muttered, although he hesitated. "It meant nothing to me."

Harry, who had finally grown tired of this, pushed Malfoy roughly away from him. Throwing the door open, he realised that he couldn't go back to the carriage - which was stupid because his luggage was in there. Nonetheless, Harry paused at the door, uncertain of where to go.

"Well, Draco," Harry began quietly. "It meant something to me."


	10. Dangerous Dispute

****

Chapter Ten - Dangerous Dispute

Harry wandered along the endless corridors, looking for a carriage that had room in it. Just before he gave up, Harry peered into the last one and saw Luna Lovegood sitting by herself.

"Mind if I sit here, Luna?" Harry asked, sitting down anyway.

"Not at all, Harry. You'll need a rest from that toilet fiasco," Luna said, wriggling her eyebrows.

Harry stared at her with bewilderment. "How did you know about that?"

"The Snarklepops, of course," Luna snapped, irritated at the fact Harry wasn't educated on all the bizarre creatures her father wrote about in _The Quibbler_.

"Right," Harry murmured, grinning to himself. "So these Snafflepops-"

"Snarklepops!"

"These Snarklepops listen in to people's conversation?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and they have a tendency to tell everyone too. So why _did _Malfoy throw the toilet seat at you?" Luna asked, her eyes growing big with intrigue.

What? "He didn't throw a toilet seat at me, Luna," Harry said unsurely.

"Yes he did! Snarklepops never lie!" Luna shouted.

"Whatever," Harry mumbled, mentally kicking himself for listening to Luna. However, there was still the niggling fact that she had known they had been in the bathroom together, though.

When Ron and Hermione popped their heads around the corner, Harry remembered prefects had to go on duty sometimes, but they could return to normal carriages whenever they wanted. Mentally wishing that Malfoy had disappeared and that Crabbe and Goyle were asleep, Harry made his excuses and dodged past Ron and Hermione, heading back to the other carriage containing his luggage. Opening the door slowly, Harry gasped in shock. Malfoy was by himself, and he was sleeping.

He looked so beautiful. His hair, still the same length from his early school years, had fallen forward over his face. He looked so vulnerable when he slept, as there were no unkind sneers or steely grey eyes boring into Harry. Taking a seat opposite, Harry continued to gaze in awe at Malfoy. Occasionally, he would mutter in his sleep, then smile briefly. It was a genuine smile, one Harry had never seen from Malfoy before. This smile didn't boast about unfair conquests or evil laughter from name-calling, this was the smile of someone who was in love. As Harry leaned in closer, Malfoy's eyes snapped open and he pushed Harry away forcefully.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy groaned.

"I came here to get my stuff," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Well get it then fuck off again," Malfoy said sleepily. "I don't want you in here."

Harry felt something inside him snap. "Malfoy, what is with you? Why do you keep on changing your stance with me? What is going on?" Harry scowled.

"Potter, you wouldn't understand. When I needed you, I needed you. Now I don't need you, I see no point in being your friend," Malfoy explained. "You were merely a plaything."

"Oh," Harry muttered. He couldn't say anything else.

"Is ickle Harry Potter upset at what the big bad Malfoy just told him?" Malfoy laughed, all traces of the beautiful smile gone from his lips.

Harry, although he could feel a lump in his throat, glared at Malfoy and was about to leave when Ron and Hermione appeared, looking confused.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"NOTHING!" Harry exploded.

"Hello you two," Malfoy grinned maliciously, "Your hero is a bit upset, I see. Better go kiss him better."

Harry stomped off, Ron and Hermione in his wake. Even though he was well away from Malfoy now, he could still hear his cruel laughter echoing around his ears. So Malfoy only pretended to fancy him to get something out of Harry? Or maybe Malfoy didn't want to admit he might be gay just yet, so he was acting defensively to ward off any potential lovers? Harry thought up many little explanations for Malfoy's behaviour, each one more extravagant than the rest. Ron and Hermione sat silently, watching Harry fume silently. After ten minutes, Harry hadn't spoke to either of them. Hermione grew bored of sitting around, and stood up, tugging Ron's robes suggestively.

"Well Harry, we'll leave you to change into your robes... we have to get ready to open up the carriage doors for everyone, don't we Ron?" Hermione nudged him.

"Yeah, that's right," Ron mumbled, getting up slowly. "See you soon, Harry."

Harry clambered into a thestral-drawn black carriage with Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny. Despite the chain of recent events, Harry smiled widely when Hogwarts trundled into view. Hermione and Ginny had trouble stifling their giggles as Luna twittered on about Snarklepops, while Ron continued to roll his eyes.

As they shuffled into the Great Hall, it became very obvious that Dumbledore was missing. After much shouting over the suspicious whisperings from students, Professor McGonagall called for silence.

"Professor Dumbledore is away on business," she said firmly. "Rest assured, your headmaster will be back tomorrow. Now, let us begin the Sorting."

After the Sorting had finished and the food had appeared, Harry began to tuck in, oblivious to the dubious chatter that surrounded him. Ron also ignored everyone, staring at someone from a table behind Harry.

"I never knew Malfoy was going out with Pansy," he muttered quietly.

Harry swung around so suddenly that his goblet toppled and fell onto the table, pumpkin juice steadily spreading across the white tablecloth slowly. There he was... kissing Pansy's hand, his eyes locked with Harry's. Usually Harry would have been disgusted, along with Ron, but all he felt was his heart slowly ripping in two. When Pansy giggled and pulled her hand away, Malfoy smirked at Harry and proceeded to eat, but was always sure to pay close attention to Pansy whenever Harry turned around jealously.

"Dumbledore is probably working on a task for the Order," Hermione concluded, following Harry and Ron as they made their way up the marble staircase. "Are you two okay?"

"We saw Pansy and Malfoy get cosy. So cosy that they put me off my food. It was disgusting. Wasn't it, Harry?" Ron said, elbowing Harry in the ribs.

"Yeah... disgusting," Harry said sadly.

"Well from what I heard, he fancies someone else too," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know who it could be. I mean, they deserve each other, they're so worthless."

Harry chose not to argue with this - he was too tired. It took them little time to reach the Fat Lady, where Hermione mumbled the new password and they all stepped inside. The room glowed warmly, with the red and gold colours of Gryffindor draped across armchairs and other pieces of furniture. Harry marched slowly up to the boy's dormitory, flung open his bed curtains and collapsed onto his bed. It had been a long and agonizing day, and all he wanted to do was sleep for the next couple of days and forget everything that had happened.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked quietly, stepping into the room.

"Nothing," Harry snapped. "Just go away, I need some sleep."

Ron raised his eyebrows quizzically, shrugged helplessly and headed back down to the common room. Harry pulled his curtains shut and lay there, staring at the ceiling. Gradually, his roommates stumbled inside and got into bed.

"Harry? Are you still awake?" Ron whispered.

When Ron got no answer, Harry heard him climb into his bed and everything was silent. Harry was beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard Ron and Neville whisper softly. Sitting up slowly, he desperately tried to overhear the conversation.

"- He seemed upset when Malfoy was with Pansy. I think this is all about Malfoy dating someone before him," Ron murmured.

"Yeah. It's strange though - Harry is The Boy Who Lived - you'd think he would have plenty of girls to choose from!" Neville muttered.

"I don't think that's the case," Ron said shakily. "There's definitely something wrong with Harry, especially concerning Malfoy."

Harry was relieved to hear that Neville didn't understand Ron, but was concerned at Ron's conjecture. When neither of the other two boys spoke again, Harry curled up on his bed and finally got some rest.

"Morbig 'Arry," Ron mumbled, chewing on his toast thoughtfully.

"Ron, don't be so disgusting," Hermione sighed, edging away from him. "Harry, it's nearly ten o' clock! Are you just arriving?"

"No, I should be here in about an hour," Harry said sarcastically.

He sat down and grabbed a blueberry muffin, gnawing ferociously. Hermione passed him his timetable, obviously not speaking to him. Harry didn't care. Ron burbled on about how great the food was and how annoying it was to have double Potions first thing on a Monday. Every so often Harry would glance over to where Malfoy sat, only to see Malfoy stare back at him. Just before Harry would turn away, Malfoy would grab Pansy and either kiss her cheek or grab her hand. Either way, Harry felt sick to the stomach with jealousy. His envious mood increased when they all arrived at the Potions corridor to see Pansy pinned against the wall by Malfoy, while they kissed and groped each other. On seeing Harry's distraught face (and Ron's paled face) Hermione hissed at Malfoy to 'put it away'.

"Fuck off, mudblood," Malfoy snarled, breaking away from Pansy.

Ron growled and leapt onto Malfoy, ripping his robes at an attempt to hurt him hard as he flailed his arms about wildly, hitting people surrounding them as well as Malfoy, who was more accurate and succeeded in hitting Ron's jaw and nose a couple of times. Harry stood still, wondering whether to jump in and help or to just let it happen. Hermione whimpered, trying to curse them apart, shooting furtive glances at Harry, who remained standing still. All the Slytherins cheered on Malfoy and started to fight people as well. The Gryffindors, who had been busy egging on Ron, did not see the surge of oncoming green, silver and black but acted fast and soon enough there was a very large brawl in motion. Pansy and Hermione were pulling at each other's hair, screaming names at each other. It was amazing to see that none of them had remembered they could use their wands and that they preferred to make each other bleed and bruise. Harry had ducked behind a tapestry when it began, so no one was fighting him at the time. He used this to his advantage when he let out a loud and bloodcurdling scream, hoping that everyone would stop. Malfoy rose slowly and a deadly hush commenced, the odd pant or groan emitting from someone who was battered and sore.

"What was that for?" Malfoy scorned.

"I wanted to stop everyone," Harry murmured, looking around. "I see it worked."

"You're a wimp, Potter. Always one to be the hero, aren't you? Well you couldn't save one person, could you?..." Malfoy paused, awaiting Harry's reaction.

"What are you talking about?" Harry muttered in confusion. At this point in time, he couldn't remember much apart from his time with Malfoy and the fight.

"The stars are brilliant, aren't they?" Malfoy continued, pacing everyone slowly. "My favourite one has to be the dog star though. Do you know what the dog star is?"

"No."

"The dog star, Potter, is Sirius. Sirius, your pathetic godfather. Sirius, the one you let go, the one who died because of YOU!" Malfoy spat, a look of triumph on his face.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?" Harry screamed. Those were the things he had kept secret all these years, and now Malfoy stood there, scorning him and the memories that were now imprinted in his head. He saw Sirius fall behind the veil, and even though no one blamed Harry, it was obvious that it was Harry's fault he had gone. Harry looked at Malfoy angrily, awaiting an explanation.

"I have connections, Potter. Important people in high places-"

Harry didn't let Malfoy finish his sentence as he sprung onto him and pinned him to the ground roughly. Nearly six years of hatred that Harry was sure had started to melt away came flooding right back and he thudded Malfoy with all the strength he could muster, breaking his nose and bruising his pale face quicker than Ron had done. While Harry had begun to strangle Malfoy murderously, screaming at the top of his voice, Snape flew around the corner, halfway through apologizing his absence when he saw the commotion and turned very pale indeed.

"Potter," he whispered menacingly, "What are you DOING?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked up, now very aware of what he had done. He crept off Malfoy and stood up, everyone else watching closely as they desperately tried to clean up their injuries. Malfoy didn't move or groan, he was unconscious, and, for a brief moment, didn't breathe.

"I - we - he started it!" Harry yelled pathetically.

"Indeed. Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter," Snape whispered menacingly. He looked around, a strange smirk forming on his face. "I see everyone else decided to copy their hero, how quaint. A further twenty points from Gryffindor. Such bad examples you set your peers, Harry."

"It takes two to fight," Harry said bravely. "The Slytherins fought too."

"Very well. Twenty points off Slytherin, and I am disappointed in all of you. Everyone, get inside the classroom and turn to page twenty three. Read up on the potion you are about to brew, I shall be with you in a few minutes time. Potter, come with me. We shall be seeing the Headmaster about this," Snape said, hexing Malfoy so he drifted off towards the stairs slowly.

Harry sat next to Snape, feeling very ashamed. Professor Dumbledore, who was back at last, peered at Harry sorrowfully. He had gone too far this time.

"You nearly killed Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said in a grave voice. "I've stuck up for you many times before, because I knew I needed to. However, today is an exception. Explain."

"He insulted Sirius. He... he blamed me for his death," Harry muttered.

"Harry, I know these are hard times for you. I know that people will be talking about you, and that certain people, such as Mr. Malfoy, will want to taunt you for events that have passed. I know this may be difficult, but I want you to ignore them. Ignore everyone that starts to talk about anything other than school. Could you do that for me?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know," Harry replied awkwardly. "It'll be hard to ignore people whispering and stuff... although I've done it before, this is different."

"What about Malfoy?" Snape interrupted.

"Yes, I'm coming to that, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly, turning to Harry. "We must always try to stop young witches and wizards becoming Death Eaters, Harry, so I think you should overcome this barrier between you and Mr. Malfoy, for everyone's sake. As far as my knowledge goes, I know that Mr. Malfoy has his own sleeping quarters in the dungeons. I could arrange it so that you could stay there too. Now, as a big fan of muggle sweets, I also visited my muggle cousin once. He had something called a television, and on it was a 'reality' show. It contained a handful of people who were confined in a house for a long period of time, and muggles found it entertaining to watch their lives in this house. Now, I do not wish to do this for my entertainment, but I think you and Mr. Malfoy should do the same."

"I think it would be wise to disband them of their wands," Snape suggested curtly.

"I don't want to do this," Harry started. "I don't want to be away from other people, from my lessons... I don't want to be with _him_."

"I'm sorry Harry, but everything else I have tried has failed miserably. Yourself and Mr. Malfoy continue to have detentions and points deducted, but to no avail. I would like to give this one try," Dumbledore said firmly, making it obvious there was no point arguing.

"But," Harry said hopelessly, "you saw how vicious I was without my wand. What's to stop me doing that again?"

"Expulsion from Hogwarts," Dumbledore said instantly, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "I know you won't do it again though. Please have faith in me, Harry."

Harry thought about this. Maybe, if it did work, Malfoy would be friendlier towards him, meaning a few other Slytherins might do the same. There was also the point of being alone with Malfoy all the time. No Pansy to kiss, no Ron to start fights with... just Malfoy and himself. Maybe they could overcome their personal problems as well as stopping Malfoy from his father's fate. Maybe this time, Malfoy would offer Harry something he couldn't refuse and couldn't screw up. Maybe Dumbledore would curse Malfoy so that he couldn't insult Harry and make him unhappy. It was worth a shot.

"There is one thing, Professor," Harry said sheepishly, his old feelings for Malfoy brewing up in his heart.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Will we be sharing a bed?"


	11. Of Confinement, China cups and Cuddles

****

Chapter Eleven - Of Confinement, China cups and Cuddles

Neither Harry or Malfoy returned to their lessons before lunchtime. Malfoy had been discharged from the hospital wing and had been told of Dumbledore's experiment. Needless to say, he was furious. After much threatening of contacting his father and sacking every teacher responsible for this 'outrage', Malfoy gave in and reluctantly returned to the dungeons, made space for Harry and headed off to collect him. Meanwhile, Harry sat on his bed, slowly packing away and thinking about the overall outcome of the experiment, if it worked. Despite feeling confident that the plan to guide Malfoy in the right direction was a good one, Harry had a thousand doubts in his head, the main one being that Malfoy could hand Harry over to Voldemort at any time. When he heard a few Gryffindors enter the common room, Harry remembered how Dumbledore had stated one evening that fourth, fifth and sixth years were to spend the extra hour of lunch studying wherever they wish. This was to boost their confidence and abilities for the upcoming exams.

"Okay, trunk - check; cage - check; informing Ron and Hermione - oh..." Harry sighed, dragging his belongings down to the common room.

"Were you expelled, Harry?" Hermione gasped, peering out from her book.

"No, although I'm near it," Harry admitted. "It's a new experiment Dumbledore wants to try."

"Which is...?" Ron asked, perturbed.

"I have to share Malfoy's sleeping quarters with him until we become 'friends' and make 'peace' with one another," Harry explained.

"Malfoy has his own sleeping quarters? Spoilt son of a-"

"But what about your lessons?" Hermione persisted.

"Dumbledore said he would explain everything to both me and Malfoy when I arrive at Malfoy's quarters," Harry mumbled.

"Well, I'm sure it's for the best," Hermione muttered, burying her head in her book. Ron continued to look both dazed and infuriated.

Harry struggled with his belongings, feeling very annoyed that neither Ron or Hermione were bothering to help him. Ron still sat there, gaping at Harry as if he were crazy.

"Are you actually doing this?" he said stupidly.

"I have to, otherwise it's back to the Dursley's," Harry cried, but added under his breath; "Moron."

When he had dumped his stuff outside into the corridor, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, who were both preoccupied. He had said 'see you later' about twenty times, but neither one seemed to be listening. Losing his temper quickly, Harry jumped outside and gathered his things.

"Don't miss me too much, idiots!" he yelled, descending the stairs slowly.

When Harry arrived at the dungeons, he was in a very foul mood. While he had been heading downstairs, he had tripped on the invisible stair. Fair enough, he accepted his mistake. However, when Peeves had dumped a bottle of ink on his head, Harry began to feel enraged and hexed a mocking painting in fury as he rid his hair of ink with a simple cleaning charm. To make things worse, he proceeded to trip on an upturned rug right in front of Cho and her giggly gang, who merely snorted with laughter (Cho an exception, she miserably glared at him). Just when Harry was ready to scream at the top of his voice, Colin Creevey bounced around the corner and clicked away with his camera, causing Harry to be blinded and to stumble and fall - right on top of Malfoy.

"Potter! Get off me!" Malfoy shrieked.

Harry tried to get up but it was no use - they had become entangled with one another. He thrashed about, trying to break free. Colin went wild, beside himself with glee for getting the opportune moment to snap some good photos.

"Mmm mmmm mmmm," Harry mumbled, getting a mouthful of robes.

"What?" Malfoy hissed, his face a deep crimson.

"Use y-your wand," Harry panted, struggling madly.

"I don't know the spell for disentangling people, Potter," Malfoy murmured.

"Expelliarmus," Harry groaned. Expelliarmus was the charm to disarm people of their wands, but since it was so powerful, it also forced people apart. "Use expelliarmus."

"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's voice had turned unusually deep.

Harry soon realised Snape had turned around the corner. The two boys flung apart, each one pinned against opposite walls. Snape looked at Harry disdainfully, a malevolent sparkle in his eyes.

"Starting fights again, Potter? What, too famous to disregard Dumbledore's direct orders?" Snape spat, his eye level equal to Harry's. "Well I'll make sure Dumbledore hears of this... he won't be pleased at all."

"It was my fault!" Malfoy said involuntarily. He clamped a hand around his mouth, aware of what he had said.

"What?" Snape said disbelievingly.

Malfoy sighed impatiently, annoyed at himself. "It was my fault. I - I was practising my charms, and I guess I hit Potter - and we got tangled up. We weren't fighting - we were struggling."

Snape snarled, displeased at the fact it hadn't been Harry's fault. He mumbled at Malfoy to be more careful and stalked off, muttering about the inanity of pupils nowadays.

"Thanks, Malfoy," he mumbled, nodding gratefully.

"So you sh- ... No problem, Potter," Malfoy grumbled.

They stared blankly at each other, green into grey, both conscious that they had just been noticeably civil since their time at Hogwarts. It felt weird that only a few hours ago, Harry had been strangling Malfoy, wishing he would die. He certainly didn't wish that now.

"Sorry about earlier," he confessed. "But you know, you shouldn't have said that it was my fault. You don't know how many sleepless nights I've had, thinking the same thing. Everyone tried to convince me it wasn't my fault, but I guess they couldn't persuade me to believe otherwise. Now, my worst enemy so kindly pointed out that it was my fault that Sirius died _and _that he received the information second hand from Voldemort's chums."

Malfoy looked slightly taken aback for a moment, his eyes round with surprise, his mouth open slightly.

"You said his name!" he said, bemused. "I'm your worst enemy?" Malfoy's shoulders drooped considerably and he gazed through half-shut eyes at Harry, smiling weakly. Harry found it incredibly endearing.

"But of course. We've hated each other for, ooh, about six years? All because I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin," Harry said, although he was grinning slightly.

"Actually, no," Malfoy corrected him, smirking. "You chose the Weasel over me, Draco Malfoy. _Then _it was a matter of House differences. Plus, you're The Ponce Who Lived."

Harry laughed out loud, and began to wonder if there was some sort of spell on him - the tables of his life were forever turning, his viewpoint of Malfoy forever changing. Malfoy remained smug for a moment, but eased up a little and chuckled quietly. Harry thought everything was beginning to be okay when Blaise Zabini turned the corner - and Malfoy edged away from Harry, a familiar scowl on his face.

"Alright, Draco," Blaise nodded. "What are _you _doing down here?" He glared at Harry.

"I have to hand in extra homework for Snape," Harry said stupidly, causing Malfoy to groan loudly.

"Oh really," Blaise said sarcastically. "and I suppose that's why you have all your stuff with you, and that the Potions corridor is way back there?"

"Okay," Harry began. Malfoy held his breath. "I'm being suspended. I was leaving Snape's office, and I guess I took a wrong turn."

Blaise laughed cruelly in Harry's face, shoving him backwards. "Good riddance, eh Malfoy? We won't have to hear from the-boy-who-just-won't-die for a few weeks."

Malfoy muttered in agreement, continuing along the path towards the Slytherin common room, quickening his pace. Blaise had wandered off, chuckling loudly. Struggling to keep up with Malfoy and hold all his things at once, Harry called out to the swift blonde dragon.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Potter," Malfoy wheeled around to face him. "We can't be too chummy in public - people will call me names."

"Oh, okay," Harry murmured sadly, remembering their shared laughter from a moment ago.

"DRACO! Oh, Dray!" Pansy shrieked, scampering towards him.

Harry thought quickly and hid around a corner, slyly watching as Pansy draped herself around Malfoy's slim body, cooing in his ear and running a finger up and down his chest. He looked only mildly disgusted as he shoved her away.

"Not now, Pansy. I have things to do," Malfoy said angrily, stalking straight past the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "See you later."

Harry waited until Pansy had stomped off huffily before darting up to Malfoy, who had arrived at a very strange, yet familiar looking door. As Malfoy ran a finger down the locks, Harry's memory was triggered and he remembered this door was similar to those used at the wizard bank Gringott's. Seeing Harry's face of intrigue, Malfoy smiled smugly.

"Father got it for me. It's to stop unwanted people getting in. If they attempt to open it, they get sucked into an old broom closet and are locked in until I check on them," he grinned, his eyes glittering with malice.

Harry also remembered that the goblin at the bank had told him a similar story, and that he checked the vaults every ten years or so.

"How often do you check?" he asked nervously.

"Oh, every day," Malfoy sighed. "Pansy is in there all the time. Sometimes, Crabbe and Goyle are too."

"That doesn't surprise me," Harry mumbled, making Malfoy giggle softly.

As they stepped in, Malfoy took a grand step aside and pulled a daft face, waving his arm around majestically.

"Welcome to my boudoir," he said flamboyantly.

Harry gaped at the vast display of silver and green. A mahogany four poster bed stood proudly in the centre of the room, displaying the same crushed green velvet and silver satin that had been in the Manor. There was a vast dresser near the fireplace, bulging with the clothes within. Malfoy was obviously very fashion conscious. There were two doors on the right side of the room and Harry assumed they led to a bathroom and a small kitchenette. The fireplace itself was not lit, however Malfoy muttered a few words and the room was soon thrown into pale orange light as it danced and flickered merrily. Just in front of the fireplace were two small velvet green seats, and Malfoy flopped down into one, sighing heavily.

"Rough day?" Harry grinned.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Malfoy snorted, sneering slightly. "Well, take a seat. Dumbledore will send us an owl in a moment."

Harry and Malfoy sat in comfortable silence, gazing intently at the blazing fire. Malfoy, who was slumped slightly in his chair, appeared to be thinking deeply. His eyes were glazed over, his lips were pursed and he laid his head onto one hand. When he smiled, Harry recognised it as the same smile from the train. The innocent, angelic smile playing on Malfoy's lips seemed so surreal that Harry found himself staring at Malfoy unintentionally.

"What?" Malfoy said warily. "Is my hair a mess? Is there something on my robes?"

"No," Harry replied, laughing. "You're such a dolt, _Dray_."

"Don't call me that! Only Pansy can call me that," Malfoy snapped irritably. "Why were you staring at me, anyway?"

"Evil can be appealing at times," Harry chuckled, swerving his gaze back to the fire.

There was a tapping on the window, and Fawkes stood there eagerly, clutching a note in his beak. Malfoy sprang up and grabbed the letter, letting Fawkes go again with muttered gratitude. He opened up the letter and began to read it aloud.

****

Dear Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy,

As I explained to both of you, the whole point of this test is for you to call a truce and become friends. I am sure you do not want your harmless school foes to become deadly enemies later in life.

You will attend lessons as usual and will both report to Mr. Malfoy's room upon completion of the school day. Mr. Potter, I daresay you will want to spend some time with your friends, as Mr. Malfoy will want to be alone with his friends too, so I will allow you to sit at your House table for meals, and for meals only. Any Hogsmeade visits or study sessions will be done together.

For means of entertainment, I will send along some Gobstones, Wizard's chess and Exploding Snap. However, while speaking to a few Professors it has become clear to me that you may help each other excel in certain subjects. Mr. Malfoy, your Defence Against the Dark Arts grade can be improved slightly, as can Mr. Potter's Potions grade. I will also request that you are partners in all the classes you are in together, this is to promote a good image to other people in other Houses so they may do the same.

I will require an owl each day, roughly outlining your progress. You will take it in turns to write me an owl or if you wish, you can both send me a letter. Decide with each other what is best. After five weeks, your task should be complete. I hope that you soon see the best in each other.

Good luck,

Professor Dumbledore.

"Well, it sounds... pretty boring," Harry admitted.

"Boring is an understatement," Malfoy groaned. "Why can't we just say we're best buddies to get it over and done with?"

"Dumbledore can read through those kind of lies, Malfoy," Harry said grimly.

"Oh," Malfoy sounded disappointed.

Neither one of them spoke for a minute as they mulled over what Dumbledore had said. They were going to be in close proximity with each other for a really long time. Surely this would drive them crazy? Harry suddenly realised that he was very thirsty. The heat of the fire had made him parched.

"Malfoy, can I get a drink?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair.

"Hmm? Oh, sure. Tea?" Malfoy said. Harry nodded. He watched as Malfoy slowly rose from his chair and shuffled through another door that led to a small kitchen area. Harry followed him with interest.

"You really have it going for you, don't you?" Harry said admirably.

"Mmm," Malfoy muttered, pottering about.

"What do you mean, 'mmm'? I still have to share a dorm room with four other boys! Count yourself lucky!" Harry snorted.

There was a loud smash as Malfoy threw the china cups he was using at the opposite wall, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his face flushed. He swung around to face Harry.

"I - am - not - lucky," he whispered, his body trembling slightly. "You - you have NO idea. What's happened to me... it's not nice."

Malfoy stomped over to the broken china and scooped it up carelessly, cutting his fingers. The blood trickled down his hands as he set the blue china onto the sideboards, gently beginning to piece the cups back together.

"Why are you doing that?" Harry asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"My grandmother gave me these cups when I was little. She used to have tea parties with me," Malfoy muttered, and Harry smiled weakly, pushing any cruel jokes to the back of his head. "When she died, everyone just forgot about her, it was like she never existed. No one told me for days, and when I found out, I cried. Father hit me and told me not to be such a weakling. So, I stopped bereaving, stored the china cups away, and focused on more important things. It was only when I was packing furniture for my new quarters that I came across them. I remembered my grandmother and the parties we had. I remembered how I just dismissed those memories, just because I wanted to be a strong little boy. I... I didn't mean to smash the cups, I didn't..."

He kept his back to Harry, but Harry could clearly see his shoulders shaking. Small sobs escaped Malfoy's lips, and he furiously wiped at his tears with his robes and hiccoughed several times. It was amazing to see that someone with such a vile public image could be so frail. Harry could tell Malfoy didn't want him to see him like this, for he knew that meant Harry had discovered Malfoy's 'Achilles' heel' - his weak point. As he watched Malfoy gradually fix the cups together like jigsaws, waves of emotion swept through Harry. So Malfoy knew what it was like to lose someone close to him, someone special. He had lost his grandmother, just as Harry had lost Sirius. Then it clicked. Maybe this was a link to Malfoy's big problem in the summer.

Right now, it was clear Malfoy needed someone. Without thinking, Harry walked up to Malfoy and hugged him from behind. Malfoy stiffened, but Harry continued to hug him, stroking Malfoy's chest with his fingers. He could feel Malfoy struggle slightly but he didn't let go. Eventually, Malfoy gave in and turned to hug Harry properly. What was meant to be a mere gesture of comfort turned into something a lot more deeper as both boys slowly caressed each other, Malfoy still slightly rigid. Pale skin contrasted with tan as they both nuzzled softly into each others cheeks, while Harry found Malfoy's hands and entwined them with his own. He felt tingles of excitement rush up and down his fingers, and jolts rush through his heart when Malfoy smiled to himself, one of his secret smiles.

As they locked eyes, Malfoy's own grew wide with realisation. He was grasping onto Harry's hands desperately. It didn't feel right. He broke the connection with Harry abruptly and turned around, picking up where he left off with the china cups. Harry stood in a daze of confusion as he fumbled with his hands, tracing where Malfoy's fingers had been. Why, why had he just cut off like that? Feeling put down, Harry silently left the kitchenette and locked himself in the bathroom.

Malfoy, who had realised he had been trying to fix the cups the muggle way, sighed, raised his wand and muttered the mending spell, _Reparo_. Still oblivious to the absence of Harry's presence, Malfoy began preparing the tea.

"One lump or two?"


	12. Close Encounters

****

Disclaimer update: I own the plot, and the plot only. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it means a lot to me. Also, thanks to Alice who helped me when I had writer's block. =3

Chapter Twelve - Close Encounters

"Potter?" Malfoy called out into the silence.

With an impatient sigh, Malfoy stomped out of the kitchen and called out again. No answer. Harry remained in the bathroom, slumped against the door.

"Potter, I know you're in there," Malfoy spat, glaring at the mahogany door. "Get your ass out, and get some tea!"

Silence ensued. Harry, who was very stubborn, made no effort to talk to Malfoy. He glared at his shoes, as if they were to blame. He heard Malfoy sigh deeply and lean against the door, causing it to creak slightly.

"Potter, I'm so sorry," Malfoy said quietly.

Harry heard Malfoy sit down at the opposite side of the door. Harry pressed his ear against the wood, desperate to hear if anything else was said.

"Why couldn't we have just stayed enemies?" Malfoy said, groaning. "This is a lot more difficult."

"What do you mean?" Harry enquired, stroking his finger across the patterns on the door.

"Liking you!" Malfoy exploded. "I... I _really _like you."

"Really?" Harry asked shyly.

"I guess. But don't ask me why - it's just a feeling. Maybe it will go away," Malfoy muttered.

"Do you want it to go away?" Harry asked nervously.

Harry couldn't hear what Malfoy had to say - there was a loud bang on the door and Harry heard Ron shouting. Malfoy whinged and Harry heard him shuffle to the door.

"Fuck off, Weasel!" Malfoy yelled.

"Let me in!" Ron shouted.

Harry, whose bum had started to numb considerably, jumped up and unlocked the bathroom door, shuffling up to Malfoy. Ron was thumping the door violently and swearing at Malfoy, and Harry could hear Hermione shriek indignantly.

"Fuck off!" Malfoy repeated.

"NO! We want to see Harry!" Hermione pleaded.

"Harry - let us in!" Ron sounded slightly confused. "Are you there, Harry?"

Malfoy looked amused as he turned to Harry, one eyebrow raised. He waited. Harry waited. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted his friends to come in or not.

"Yeah, I'm here," Harry said dejectedly. "Hang on."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy grimace as Harry unlocked the door from his side, sighing heavily. Ron bounded into the room, looking quite intimidating as he stood to his full height. Hermione looked less scary and, Harry thought suddenly, quite pretty. Malfoy seethed with fury and slammed himself down into a couch, looking enraged. Had it been Malfoy's way, they would have been told to sod off. Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek as she always did, causing Malfoy to pout sulkily. Ron wrinkled his nose up in disgust as he saw the decor, elbowing Hermione in the ribs and chuckling slightly.

"Like what you did with the place, Malfoy," Ron sniggered.

"Look, Weasel. See that dresser over there? It cost more than your house," Malfoy hissed, staring into the fire.

"OI!" Ron shouted, reddening a little.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy demanded. "This is _our _experiment. _We _are supposed to be alone. Piss _off_," Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

"We only came to drop off these," Hermione said huffily, holding up the games that Dumbledore promised.

"Thank you, fuck off now," Malfoy said impatiently.

"Why do you want us to go so much?" Ron asked, glaring at the back of Malfoy's head. "Don't be so impertinent."

"Ooh, such a big word for a Weasel. How long did it take you to learn it? A month? 3 months?" Malfoy sneered. "Your family are the lowest of low, Weasel."

Ron darted towards Malfoy, but Harry grabbed his robes and pulled him back. Malfoy turned around and grinned even more, pleased at annoying Ron. Hermione stood at the sidelines, mouthing helplessly.

"Harry! Let - me - get - him!" Ron snarled. He struggled free of Harry's grip, his face burgundy red with anger.

"NO! Don't you _dare _hit Draco!" Harry shouted. Ron stopped moving, Hermione gasped and Malfoy's sneer faded.

"W-what?" Ron stuttered.

Harry panicked. He had said Malfoy's first name. The other three looked at him expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"Er... well..." Harry hung his head, unable to think of anything.

"What Harry means is that since we're supposed to be on friendly terms now, we shouldn't have our friends hate us too," Malfoy said slowly, his eyes upon Harry thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Harry nodded gratefully.

"Well I can't help you with that," Ron said darkly, heading for the door. "I'll NEVER like you, Malfoy. Ever. Maybe it's because you piss me off. Maybe it's the fact you insult me all the time. Maybe you're just a pompous git. To me, you're pond scum."

"Oh, fuck_ off_," Malfoy growled, rolling his eyes. "You just can't live with being the wimpy sidekick, can you? Granger has the brains. Top of the year, I hate to add. Pott- _Harry _is The Boy Who Lived. Who are you? Aside from one of many Weasels, you're a nobody."

Harry watched as Ron's face inflamed and, to Harry's horror, he blinked back tears. As Ron stood there, in slightly tattered robes and other hand-me-downs, Harry and Hermione stared at him. They had known this long ago, but hadn't even dared bring it up. Ron let out a strangled yell as neither friend stood up for him and stormed out of the room. Hermione looked lost, torn between two friends, but soon scampered off after Ron.

A few hours passed as the sun slowly began to set. Harry and Malfoy had remained in Malfoy's quarters, having eaten a few sandwiches that Malfoy had pulled together reluctantly. They had avoided the subject of Ron and Hermione for nearly six hours, preferring to talk about Quidditch and lessons and other things. It was when Harry glanced at the half open door again that he remembered the events from earlier on, and his mood faltered. Malfoy caught sight of Harry's visible exhaustion and sat down on a chair by the fire wearily.

"Sorry," Malfoy mumbled, "but I'll never like your friends, Potter."

"Oh, we're on last name terms again?" Harry spat angrily.

"HARRY!" Malfoy screamed. He began to massage his temples slowly, leaning forward in his seat. "Harry. They set me on edge all the bloody time. If you want to get along with me, don't ever invite them round again."

"What happened to 'I really like you'?" Harry said bitterly.

Malfoy pulled the other chair towards his and gestured for Harry to sit down. Harry obliged and stared into the fire once more, the familiar feeling of deja vu sweeping across him. Malfoy leaned in closer and placed a hand on Harry's thigh, smiling slightly.

"I _do _like you," Malfoy said gently. Harry tried to ignore the shivers zipping up and down his leg. "But I can't stand it when you're part of the triumphant trio. I prefer it when we're alone."

"Well, why did you break away from our hug?" Harry pointed out shakily.

"Because I knew we were confused. I knew that we didn't know why we were doing it, but we were. It's not a feeling I like, Harry," Malfoy glanced at Harry, who had been deep in thought.

"So... so you admit that you like boys 'in that way'?" Harry said tentatively.

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I still like Pansy's tits," Malfoy said, and Harry laughed. "I see that you like Hermione, too."

"Just as a friend. She's out with Viktor Krum," Harry explained. Malfoy's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Krum?! THE Krum? God. That sort of explains why he picked her for the second task in the Triwizard Tournament, then. He must have fancied her," Malfoy added thoughtfully. "What about you... do you like boys too?"

"There's no point lying about it - yes," Harry shrugged. "But it's just a feeling; I haven't made it official or anything."

"I always knew you were different," Malfoy said smugly, leaning back and releasing his hand from Harry's thigh. "I mean... famous Harry Potter, doesn't even date a girl until 5th year and then it goes down the pan anyway!"

"Don't rub it in," Harry said, annoyed. He smiled suddenly. "Where are _your _girlfriends, Sir Smug?"

"I've had my fair share," Malfoy said sincerely. "But they bored me after a while. There was no foreplay or anything - they just spread their legs and got it over and done with. Pansy was a little bit different; she's into bondage. I didn't get bored of that, but her screechy voice _always _wore me out."

"I can't believe I'm swapping stories with you, Malfoy," Harry chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of telling Ron or Hermione how I felt."

"Why not?" Malfoy asked.

"Because... because it wouldn't go down well. Especially not with Ron," Harry said sadly.

"Homophobic git," Malfoy said calmly.

"It's not just that. I fancy the enemy, and that would probably set Ron's face on fire," Harry groaned.

"What?" Malfoy gasped. "Your enemy? You fancy you-know-who?"

"No, you idiot!" Harry snickered.

"Well then, who?!"

Harry stared at Malfoy pointedly, and was pleased to see him smile with appreciation. Before Harry knew it, Malfoy had progressed a few inches closer towards him, and could see his shimmering grey eyes staring hopefully into his. Harry brushed Malfoy's hair away from his face, gazing at his porcelain features. As the fire danced away, the flickering orange light bounced onto Malfoy's face, giving him a strange glow that made him seem even more perfect, something Harry thought to be impossible. He realised he was only inches away from Malfoy now, and that their noses were touching slightly.

"You look amazing," Harry said slowly, running his hand up Malfoy's arm.

"Shut up," Malfoy whispered, and brushed his lips against Harry's.

Harry's world faded around him, the room becoming a hazy blur of semi-darkness as he shut his eyes, lost in the moment. All he could think about was Malfoy, and how wonderful this was. They felt so right together, the kiss felt so deep that it seemed unreal. Malfoy slowly brought his hand up to cup Harry's cheek, and Harry responded by taking the kiss further, parting Malfoy's lips with his tongue and begun to explore him. Malfoy moaned quietly and briefly broke the kiss so he could get off his chair and straddle Harry. Harry groaned with anticipation and was glad when Malfoy leaned in once more.

Harry trembled with exhilaration as he began to undo the buttons on Malfoy's shirt. He opened his eyes lazily and saw more and more fair skin revealed, until the shirt finally slipped off. Harry closed his eyes once more; revelling in the sensation of Malfoy pressed against him. This felt like a dream, a dream Harry had dreamt in the summer long after his visit to the Manor. He never thought he would be able to touch Malfoy in this way - he thought it was a distant delusion, something he could never reach. All his past visions of Malfoy merged into the one vivid image in front of him now, the pale boy that sat before him smiling down on him. Harry desperately wanted to take his shirt off too, his back now slightly sticky with sweat. Harry gasped loudly as Malfoy began to rock slowly back and forth against his groin, whimpering incoherently as he did so.

Between stolen kisses they would glance at each other, checking to see if there was any hesitation. Malfoy began to speed up, going harder and harder and Harry couldn't help it; his hips lifted up, his erection pressed against Malfoy and Harry moaned Malfoy's name unintentionally.

Harry rested his hands on Malfoy's hips, urging him to go harder, while Malfoy expertly began to strip Harry, his pale fingers slipping in and out of Harry's shirt. Harry darted forward and began to suck gently on one of Malfoy's nipples, and Malfoy stopped what he was doing to grasp Harry's head and urge him forward to suck harder. Harry could feel Malfoy run his hands through Harry's raven coloured hair as he grinded against Harry frantically. Muffled moans and gasps echoed around the room and out the open door that Hermione had forgotten to close, but neither Harry nor Malfoy took notice as they were lost in their own little world.

Malfoy tore himself away from Harry's lips and began to slowly trail kisses down Harry's bare chest, slowing his pace to tease Harry as he reached Harry's trousers. With a touch of impatience, Malfoy unzipped and pulled down both trousers and boxers as Harry watched him open-mouthed. Malfoy didn't even bother to remove them all the way before taking Harry's cock into his mouth.  
  
Harry cried out in surprise, bucking his hips involuntarily. The room became even more of a blur, but Malfoy stood out clearly, his blond hair loose around his face as he moved up and down on Harry's cock. Harry watched as his cock disappeared in Malfoy's mouth again and again, sending shudders of pleasure up and down Harry's spine when he did so. Malfoy's hands snaked their way up and down Harry's inner thighs and they tickled him slightly, sending him over the edge. Harry arched his back as he came, moaning Malfoy's name over and over as he trembled uncontrollably.

Malfoy sat back from Harry, grinning. Harry smiled back and sighed deeply. Malfoy blushed as he realised he was still very, very hard. Harry had no trouble noticing this too, and got up from the seat, stumbling over to the bed and looking over to where Malfoy was. He patted the space beside him, eager to return the favour so Malfoy could feel the same sensations he felt right now. Malfoy clambered onto the bed and Harry pushed him down, lightly nibbling at Malfoy's collarbone as his hands worked at Malfoy's trousers, clumsy with anxiety.

Harry licked his way up Malfoy's thighs, relishing at the bittersweet essence of Malfoy's skin. He stroked Malfoy's erection gently and saw Malfoy bite his lip, holding in his moans. That wouldn't do, Harry _wanted _to hear him. He gripped Malfoy tightly and began to lick and suck him, and Malfoy quivered, letting his whimpers escape. It didn't take long until Harry felt Malfoy jerk suddenly beneath him, and Harry swallowed as much cum as he could, all the while hearing Malfoy swear in shock.

"Harry..." Malfoy sounded impressed, beaming down at the boy between his legs.

"Don't mention it," Harry grinned, licking at the side of his lips tentatively as he cleaned away the spilled cum.

"Harry..." Malfoy trailed off, staring into space.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up nervously.

"I didn't think this would happen," Malfoy whispered. "It was always a dream I had. That's how it felt."

"Well that makes two of us, then," Harry said, moving up next to Malfoy on the bed. "That was truly wonderful."

"Mmm," Malfoy grinned. "You can't expect less from a Malfoy."

Harry laughed and stroked Malfoy's cheek tenderly. Malfoy shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around Harry, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry lazily ran his fingers through Malfoy's blonde hair, feeling very sleepy.

"What time is it?" Malfoy asked groggily.

"Er... nine o' clock," Harry mumbled.

"Oh. Well, goodnight, Harry," Malfoy muttered, and within minutes they were both fast asleep.

Neither one had heard the boy watching them from the doorway; an evil smile fixed on his face. Blaise turned around and walked away with a skip in his step.

He couldn't wait to tell the other Slytherins tomorrow.


	13. Of Meracus, Mockery and Meetings

****

Chapter Thirteen - Of Meracus, Mockery and Meetings

Harry woke up feeling odd. He knew something was different. As he slowly regained consciousness, he became aware that there was an arm draped across his torso, it's ashen coloured skin contrasting against Harry's. Harry was never a morning person, so it took him a few minutes to register who's arm it was. He slowly sat up and memories began to flood back to him. Last night with Malfoy. The sex. The _incredible _sex. Harry looked down to see that his trousers were unzipped, and that he was very, _very _hard. Malfoy was hard too, and Harry took the opportune moment to reach into Malfoy's boxers and gripped his erection tightly. Malfoy's eyes shot open and he gasped, shocked at his wake up call.

"H-Harry!" Malfoy gulped.

"Morning," Harry mumbled, fisting Malfoy's cock slowly.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy squeaked.

"Making a cup of tea," Harry said sarcastically. "What does it look like?"

"We... I... we have to get ready," Malfoy yelped, jumping out of Harry's grasp and running into the bathroom.

__

What was that? "Malf - Draco?" Harry yelled.

Harry left the quarters before Malfoy came out of the bathroom, desperate for a wash and an attempt at taming his unkempt hair. Harry hoped that he didn't smell. It was seven o' clock or so in the morning, but the light outside suggested it was late afternoon, which was odd. The Great Hall was busy, and Harry noted that nearly all of the sixth year Slytherins were at their table - and... _what_? - they were all staring at _him_. Some people pointed, others laughed bluntly, others whispered spitefully.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione chirped, as Harry scampered over to the Gryffindor table. "Where's your school stuff?"

"I...uh... oh, _shit_," Harry frowned. "I've left it all at Malfoy's. Draco's. I'll leave early to go get them. So... how are you?"

Harry didn't want to face the Slytherin table, so he sat opposite Hermione and grabbed an apple. This seating wasn't particularly comfortable viewing either, as Cho and her gang were on the next table. Harry tried not to notice Cho as her eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw him talk to Hermione.

"I'm good," Hermione replied, flicking through a huge Muggle Studies book.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Had a job to do," Hermione replied dully. "He seems a bit distant just now, I think it's best we leave him alone."

There was a sudden, cruel outburst of laughter as Malfoy stepped into the Hall. He looked utterly horrified at the sight of many of his peers sneering at him. He usually mocks _them_. Harry watched as Blaise strutted over to Malfoy and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy instantly dropped his satchel, the noise echoing around the room. A few people from other tables turned to look. Blaise was snickering cruelly, the other Slytherins were beside themselves with glee and Malfoy's eyes were shining unnaturally.

Blaise put a powerful arm around Malfoy and steered him over to where Malfoy's lot usually sat, including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, who was seething with fury as Malfoy sat down next to her, rubbing his eyes.

Harry couldn't notice anything else because there was too much morning chatter amongst the hundreds of pupils surrounding him, making him lose concentration. Hermione was talking to him, but he didn't listen. What were they saying to Malfoy? Was he in trouble?

"HARRY!" Hermione bellowed. Harry jumped. "Why do you keep on turning to look at the Slytherin table?"

"There's something going on with Draco," Harry said slowly.

Hermione craned her neck to peer at the Slytherin table. Sure enough, Malfoy was undergoing some serious - but sly - harassment. The Slytherins surrounding him were constantly hissing names at him, but no one looked as smug as Blaise, who passed a note to Malfoy. Upon reading it, Harry saw Malfoy bury his face in his hands, his beetroot red face standing out from the gaps between his pale fingers. More laughter followed.

"What did he do?" Hermione whispered quietly. "I mean, aside from being a mean little snob all the time."

"I don't know," Harry said through gritted teeth.

Harry was conscious that most people had been watching this strange fiasco, and because the Slytherins kept darting glances at Harry, other people were too. Some had even started to whisper behind hands, no doubt making up far-fetched stories that were bound to be spread around the school by lunchtime. He now felt a lot of eyes upon him.

"Got a staring problem?" Harry said loudly, glaring at numerous people in the Hall.

The whispers turned into a low buzzing sound and people began to cry out names too. Not precisely names, but statements such as "Always needs to feel wanted, doesn't he?". Harry couldn't believe this. All he wanted was to come in and get some breakfast, not to have everyone in the room talk about him.

"I'm going to go get my stuff," Harry announced, leaping to his feet.

"See you in class," Hermione whispered.

Harry rushed out of the Great Hall, chancing a glance at Malfoy to see how he was, but Malfoy remained hidden behind his hands. Harry's vision was blurred with anger, so he did not see the large, red looking object that came whizzing around the corner. They landed on the floor simultaneously. Harry rubbed his throbbing head tenderly and looked at the person in question.

"Ron," Harry moaned.

Ron stroked his chin carefully. It's collision with Harry's head had sent his body flying backwards, and he had landed hard on his elbows. He glared at Harry.

"I'm not talking to you."

"So what do you call this, then?"

"Shut up."

Harry rolled his eyes and heaved himself to his feet. Ron eyed him suspiciously.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need to get to the Dungeons, I left my stuff at Malfoy's," Harry said firmly.

"Oh, so you were still all dopey-eyed from last night?" Ron growled.

Harry reeled back in shock. _What? He - how? Ron knows? _Ron got up, eyes still on Harry, and grabbed his bag.

"You know, 'don't you dare hit Draco!'" Ron mimicked Harry. "Gods Harry, I know you're a bit odd all of a sudden but... defending the _enemy_? What's gotten into you?"

"Ron," Harry moaned. "I have to be friendly to Draco, you know that. It's actually coming along well."

"Oh, goody," Ron said darkly, and promptly stalked off into the Great Hall.

__

Fine then. I'll just go get my stuff, and then hopefully everyone's not acting stupid when I get back.

Harry successfully made his way down to Snape's office before getting lost. He was sure it couldn't be that hard to get to where Malfoy's room was. He finally found his way there, recognising landmarks that he had seen when he had been with Malfoy yesterday. When he reached Malfoy's door, he swore violently. It was locked. Harry couldn't try to open it, or he would be in a broom closet until Malfoy found him. _Stupid complicated doors._

"Try picking the lock," someone whispered.

Harry swung around. There was no one in the corridor. He looked around helplessly, and his eyes fell upon a rather grimy looking portrait. The person within was remarkable old, with a long grey beard tumbling down and out of sight from the picture. He wore half moon glasses, no - _sunglasses_. Harry peered at the man, deciding that this day could not get any stranger. With the long beard, numerous wrinkles and a firm face, Harry was strongly reminded of Dumbledore.

"Are you related to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

The portrait scowled. "No, I'm not. I'm not related to him in anyway, thank Heaven." Harry frowned. "No, I am Meracus Sanguis Propugnator. The third."

Meracus puffed out his chest proudly and looked down his nose at Harry, who was starting to feel quite overwhelmed. He desperately wanted to get to class. It was a rare moment.

"It's a long name, I know. It's Latin. Of course, you'll know all about Latin," Meracus said.

"No," Harry said worriedly.

"What? But all Slytherins, all pure bloods must know Latin!" Meracus said angrily.

"I'm not a Slytherin, look," Harry pointed out the Gryffindor badge on his robes.

"What in the name of Salazar Slytherin is going on? Why is there a Gryffindor down here?" Meracus roared.

"Please keep your voice down!" Harry pleaded. "I'm working with Draco Malfoy for a few weeks."

"Ah yes, a Malfoy. Such a pure family made my job almost effortless. Almost," Meracus gazed into the distance. "I suppose you're not a pure blood?" Meracus sniffed.

"Not that it matters, but I'm a half-blood," Harry said, starting to feel angry.

Meracus looked considerably furious. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he bent down so he was level with Harry.

"Listen here, you half-breed," Meracus hissed, "It was my job to pursue Salazar Slytherin's orders to stop any half-bloods or mudbloods enter this school, and by God I am ashamed of what Hogwarts has become if it lets inbred people like you in!"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled. He exhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, something he liked to do to calm himself down. He didn't realise that he had now revealed his scar to Meracus.

"You... you're Harry Potter," Meracus' voice wavered slightly.

Harry wanted to say 'no kidding', but he forced himself to be polite. Meracus asked him about Lord Voldemort, how he was defeated and what he looked like. Harry didn't really want to discuss Lord Voldemort with this man, so he tried to change the subject.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses?" Harry asked.

"What? What are they?" Meracus glared. "Oh." He pulled off his glasses and gave them a quick wipe. They became clear again.

"Well, Harry Potter, aren't you late for class?" Meracus looked amused.

Harry paled. He glanced at his watch, and his stomach lurched sickeningly. Meracus had kept him there for a long time. He still hadn't retrieved his school stuff. Harry pulled out his timetable from his jean pocket and found, to his horror, he had Potions again. Harry sprinted away from a chortling Meracus and was soon stood in front of Snape's classroom. He opened the door cautiously, and saw everyone seated and in mid-flow of writing up potion ingredients. Snape looked up to his intruder and glowered.

"Why are you late?" Snape spat.

Heads turned and everyone stared at Harry. Some looked amused, some sighed in annoyance, some looked intrigued. Out of all the people in the classroom, Malfoy stood out the most. His face was wiped clean of emotions, he stared at Harry but showed no sign of affection or desire. Harry even wished for a little glimmer of malice to shine in Malfoy's eyes, but he remained soulless. Malfoy sat alone, and Harry noticed most of his stuff looked messy. As if it had been thrown around. Ron and Hermione raised synchronized eyebrows, but Hermione patted the bench beside her, gesticulating for Harry to sit next to them.

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said in his letter. _I will also request that you are partners in all the classes you are in together, this is to promote a good image to other people in other Houses so they may do the same. _Harry ignored Snape, who was sniping at him, as usual, and sat next to Malfoy.

Ron and Hermione murmured under their breath. The Gryffindors looked confused. Malfoy groaned and buried his face in his hands once more. Harry didn't understand his behaviour until the Slytherins wolf whistled.

"Do they know?" Harry whispered.

Malfoy nodded, sinking further into the sanctuary of his arms. Harry closed his eyes. No. They couldn't know about last night, it was impossible. The door was... the door was open. Harry remembered how Hermione had left it open when she went after Ron. His eyes snapped open and he glared ferociously at Hermione. It wasn't her fault entirely, he or Malfoy should have closed the door, but right now, Harry didn't care whose fault it was. Someone had played the role of Peeping Tom last night, and now their secret was out. But was it out to everyone?

"Is it just the Slytherins?" Harry muttered.

Malfoy grunted. Harry took that as a yes. He felt slightly relieved, until the reality of the situation sunk in. The _Slytherins _knew. Harry was willing to bet his Firebolt that they would force Harry and Malfoy's secret out into the open just like that, or, get them to do things so their secret isn't spread any further, meaning blackmail. Harry wasn't sure which one he preferred.

"MR. POTTER!" Snape bellowed. The class got back to work immediately. "You come in late, you disrupt the class _and _I see you have no equipment! Thirty points from Gryffindor!"

"What the fuck?" Harry sighed angrily, clenching his teeth.

"What did you say?" Snape hissed.

"Shall I work?" Harry said quickly. "I need some parchment and a quill, Professor Snape."

"Mr. Malfoy, will you share with... Mr. Malfoy, what is the matter?" Snape noticed Malfoy buried in his arms.

Malfoy looked up, looking mildly annoyed. "Nothing is wrong, Professor. Harry can share with me if he wants."

Malfoy didn't realise it, but he had just thrown another bomb onto the minefield. The people who didn't know they had begun to use first name terms (which, in perspective, was nearly everyone) looked surprised.

"Harry _darling_, you _must _share my equipment. After all, we shared equipment last night, didn't we?" Blaise mocked Malfoy, and the Slytherins laughed. The Gryffindors did not. They were still lost in their confusion.

"Mr. Zabini, shut up and get back to work," Snape said coldly. "If anyone else decides to interrupt my class from now on, it's a month's detention and fifty points from the offending House. Work."

Silence finally descended upon the class. Malfoy passed Harry his extra parchment, ink and quills quietly. Harry felt unusually sick, and he found it hard to concentrate on his work. By the end of the lesson, he had lost a further fifteen points for staring into space. As soon as Harry had bounded out of the classroom, Ron and Hermione were onto him.

"What was Blaise on about last night for? About sharing equipment?" Ron asked.

"Well, you know, sharing quarters and stuff," Harry lied. "Blaise doesn't know about that, does he?"

"I suppose not," Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"We have Defence Against the Dark Arts next," Ron read from his timetable. "I don't remember seeing a new teacher, do you?"

Nobody had seen the new teacher, and so suspicions arose and people began to talk. Some said that Snape had finally got the job, but then Ron pointed out that Snape would have to be in two places at once, because he still continues with his Potions. Harry whispered to Hermione about the Time Turner, and made a mental wish that Snape hadn't acquired one. He didn't want Snape more than four times a week.

"It could just be someone we've never heard of. It's that simple. Let's just get there and find out," Hermione said finally.

When they arrived, there was no teacher in the classroom. Hermione said that it was best if they all sat down and got out their books, to give a good impression. Ron argued that the teacher would hardly care about first impressions if they hadn't even shown up for a class.

"Shut up, Ron," someone laughed.

Ron wheeled around to face the person who yelled at him, all set to yell back. However, when he saw who it was, he merely gaped. Harry and Hermione were at a loss of words too.

"Aren't you Charlie Weasley?" Neville asked.

"Yes I am, and I'm also your new Professor," Charlie said proudly. "Mum was so excited, Ron. You should have heard her; 'Oh! Now I'll have someone to watch over Ronnie! Make sure he passes his exams, Charlie!' "

"B-but, how?" Ron stuttered.

Charlie walked to the front of the class dodging in and out of equally bewildered students. He still had a slight boyish look to him and Harry noticed his hands and arms were covered in blisters, which didn't surprise him because Charlie worked in a dragon sanctuary in Romania. Harry knew he had been at the Burrow during the summer, but he thought that was only for a short break. So why was he here at Hogwarts?

"I've had to leave my work in Romania temporarily," Charlie explained when Harry asked him. "I needed to come back here to do some research on Common Welsh Green dragons for a statistical update back at the sanctuary. When my partner, Daniel Desidiosus, told me we didn't need the information until next year, I had already arranged to go. Everything had been planned. So I sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore and asked him if he needed any extra hands this year, and he was delighted to let me teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, as I had passed the NEWT with merits. Any other questions?"

"Why didn't you tell us at home?" Ron muttered.

"Because it was a surprise, Ron. I lied when I said I was on holiday. Although, I suppose I was sort of telling the truth," Charlie said thoughtfully. "Right, let's get on with the lesson, shall we?"

Harry had thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. By the looks of it, all the other Gryffindors had as well. Charlie had demonstrated the spells that he often used to help and restrain the dragons, and made a promise that he would teach everyone the spells by the end of the year. He went off on a tangent slightly by describing each type of dragon and how he had got his blisters, much to the amusement of the pupils. Charlie had been halfway through explaining the breeding situation with Romanian Longhorns and how they desperately needed more eggs until the end of the lesson came, and everyone left in high spirits.

"Your brother is a really good teacher, Ron," Lavender said, fluttering her eyelashes at Ron.

"Er... thanks, Lavender," Ron mumbled.

Hermione frowned. "Well... he was okay, I guess."

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked, shocked.

"Oh Ron, he's a really nice person and everything, but..." Hermione glanced nervously at Ron.

"But you're so uptight with NEWTs you need to learn everything straight away?" Ron hissed furiously.

"Ron!" Hermione squeaked. "I'm not _that _uptight about the NEWTs! What Charlie was teaching us... it was Care of Magical Creatures stuff, not Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"What, so dragons aren't something to defend yourself against?" Ron yelled. People turned to look. Harry had backed up against the wall, staying well away from the both of them.

"Ron, please stop," Hermione said firmly, although her eyes were sparkling with tears. "It's just my opinion, that's all, I-"

"I don't need your opinion," Ron snapped. "Charlie was just introducing himself, and one precious lesson obviously wasn't worth that to you, was it? You always have to have a book open straight away, don't you?"

Hermione slapped Ron, tears now streaming down her face. "Ronald Weasley, I've had enough of you! You always put me down!"

"Only because you've been putting other people down beforehand!" Ron shouted, rubbing his cheek.

Hermione stomped off with a strangled yell, leaving Harry and Ron and the many people who had stopped to watch. Ron's face was redder than his hair, and he refused to lift his gaze from the floor. Harry glanced awkwardly at the people who were still watching them, and saw Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He had been watching the argument too, and looked considerably shocked.

"See you later, Ron," Harry whispered, his eyes still on Malfoy.

"Right," Ron squeaked, making his way down the corridor.

Harry darted after Malfoy, who had begun to march off to his next lesson.

"Draco!" Harry called. Malfoy stopped in his tracks but did not turn around. "Draco, we need to talk."

"Not now, Harry," Malfoy snapped.

"What? Please, I know a place where we can talk privately," Harry offered.

"I said not now!" Malfoy spat. "Lunch. Meet me outside the Great Hall at lunch."

"Okay," Harry mumbled feebly. Malfoy still hadn't turned around. "You can at least look at me, Draco."

With an impatient sigh, Malfoy jogged off and out of sight, leaving Harry feeling very confused.

"I thought you didn't like him," a female voice whispered.

"Cho?" Harry looked around, trying to locate her. Cho stepped out from behind a door, looking at Harry quizzically.

"Well? I thought you didn't like him," Cho repeated.

"Er... it's different between us now, Cho," Harry stammered, aware that she was inching towards him with an odd look on her face.

"Why is it different, Harry?" Cho asked coolly.

"I don't know," Harry said irritably. "It just is."

"How's Hermione?" Cho asked sourly.

"She's fine, actually," Harry said, getting rather annoyed.

Cho flipped her silky black hair behind her shoulder and grimaced at Harry. It was a look he had grown accustomed to. Despite the slight awkward barrier that had grown between them, Harry still felt that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he saw her.

"Are you dating yet?" Cho mumbled.

"What?" Harry stared at her in disbelief. "Cho, what's wrong with you? Why all the questions?"

"Don't you like me anymore?" Cho muttered.

Harry gaped at her in awe. "Cho, we drifted apart. _You're _going out with someone, remember? _You _left _me_. _You _misunderstood me. You, you, you."

"It was you too! Hanging around with _her _all the time!" Cho spat.

"I don't need this," Harry snapped. "See you around, Cho."

Harry stalked off furiously. _That didn't go well at all, did it? _Feeling very perplexed, Harry almost forgot to go to his next lesson as he was lost in his thoughts.

Lunch came around quicker than was expected, and Harry felt nervous meeting Malfoy. But they had to talk about what had happened in Potions... and in the morning. When Harry jumped the last step of the marble staircase, he saw Malfoy leaning casually against the wall next to the doors of the Great Hall. He was staring out of the window, his eyes glazed over. Harry made his way over to Malfoy, a look of concern on his face.

"Draco? Er... do you still want to talk?" Harry asked.

"I suppose we have to," Malfoy mumbled. "So you know a place where we can talk privately, do you? Aside from my own room?"

"Well, yes," Harry said. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Let me show you."

Malfoy followed Harry up the marble staircase, rather reluctantly, and they soon reached the seventh floor. Harry panted slightly, searching for the Room of Requirement.

"Right," Harry began, on arriving at the door. "You have to walk past the door a couple of times, focusing on what you want... so we want a room with a couple of chairs..."

Harry paced back and forth along the corridor, concentrating on what he wanted to appear in the room. Malfoy stayed where he was, staring at Harry, who was muttering to himself.

"Won't your friends want to know where you are?" Malfoy asked.

"They probably won't notice, they have their own problems. You saw what happened this morning," Harry said.

"Yeah, I didn't know they fought like that," Malfoy stared at Harry. "Shouldn't we try the door?"

Harry opened the door, and saw two squashy armchairs next to a huge blazing fireplace. He sat in the one nearest the fire, and Malfoy sat in the other.

"Right. Okay... we're here to talk... so let's talk," Harry started. "What happened this morning?"

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked.

"Oh come on, Draco," Harry snapped. "When you freaked out and ran into the bathroom."

"I wasn't ready for _that_," Malfoy spat, blushing slightly. "You didn't even ask me."

"You were hard, weren't you?" Harry said bitterly. "I just thought it would be a nice wake up call."

"Well, you were wrong!" Malfoy gripped the arms of the chair tightly.

"Let's just toss that problem aside. Pardon the pun," Harry added, grinning slightly. "What's more important is that the Slytherins know about last night."

"Yes. Well, not all of last night. Blaise saw you do... _that_...to me, but that's all," Malfoy said quickly. "He told as many Slytherins as he could. I don't know what to do. They keep on teasing me, throwing my stuff around. I'm just thankful they haven't cursed me yet."

"I thought he would blackmail us," Harry admitted. "Why haven't they told the other Houses?"

"That's where the blackmail comes in," Malfoy sighed. "I have to do Blaise's homework until the Christmas holidays."

"Shit!" Harry cursed. "We've got NEWTs coming up, we'll have loads of homework! I couldn't even cope with the amount I had last year. Er... you're only doing Blaise's homework. There's a chance the other Slytherins will tell."

"No, Blaise told them not to say anything because it would ruin his fun," Malfoy moaned.

"He's so twisted," Harry growled. "If you like, I can do some of his homework too. You know... to help you out."

Malfoy glanced at Harry and smiled for the first time today. Harry's stomach did a double take and he found himself smiling back. Then Malfoy stared into the fire intently. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but then shook his head defiantly and clamped his mouth shut.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Harry asked gently.

"I think it's time," Malfoy said quietly.

"Time? For what?" Harry asked.

Malfoy sighed and leaned in closer to Harry, who raised his eyebrows.

"It's time I told you about my problem."


End file.
